13 Reasons Why Glorybringer
by moonwatcher71
Summary: "There are thirteen reasons why your friend died. You're one of them." Three months ago, a girl named Glory Bright committed suicide. After the devastating death of Glory Bright, her friend, Deathbringer Black, receives a box of tapes. Yet they're not normal tapes, however. There are thirteen tapes, and each contain a reason why she did committed suicide. And he is one of them.
1. Prologue

Deathbringer walked to his Algebra class, his books in his hand and a huge smile plastered on his face. He whistled a tune he didn't even know as he walked into the busy hallway of Pyrrhia High, grinning like a lunatic.

_Tomorrow is the dance._

He was planning to ask his one and only love of his life- Glory Bright- to the dance. Even if they went as friends, it would be okay. Besides, he had so much to say to her. So much he needed to confess.

He would say the two words, winter dance. Then she would give him her usual I-know-what-you-mean smile, and nod her head yes.

He played the scenario over and over in his head.

Such a simple word, yet I'm so nervous about it...

He knew that if he didn't ask quickly, someone else would, and that would be terrifying.

Glory was, to his opinion, the prettiest girl in school. Her long, smooth blonde hair and her bright green eyes, sparkling with mischief and amusement. She was tall and she was perfect. How her eyes were huge, but a little tilted at the ends. How smooth her hair was. How a little lopsided her from was.

She was perfection.

He jumped into the classroom, his eyes hungrily searching for the familiar blonde hair and green eyes. This was the one of the few class he had with her, after all.

He didn't see her.

He passed the group of jocks, who didn't try to trip him as usual. They were staring at their desks like morons. But then, they _were _morons.

Perhaps he should have noticed, but it didn't bother him then. He never stopped to wonder what had stopped the tradition of the usual morning drill. His mind was on Glory and Glory only.

He passed the group of nerds, who didn't have their eyes glued to books as usual. They were all staring at the wall, not even blinking. It creeped him out a little bit, and he made an effort to not go near the nerds as he made his way through.

Then there- his desk with his friends sitting around it, but still no Glory.

Of all the scenarios in his head, he never thought about Glory being absent.

"Hi," he said to everyone, disappointed, sitting down at his usual seat. He dropped his stuff at his desk, sighing loudly as he folded his arms over his chest, giving everyone a moody grimace.

Nobody answered. Tsunami Paint, his friend with terrifying blue eyes and dyed blue hair with green highlights in them, was staring at the teacher (which surprised him because she was always listening to music with her headphones on, or taking a nap).

Starflight Hernanz, a boy with jet-black hair and green eyes that were always closed because he was blind, always had Fatespeaker Boiling (who had black hair and brown eyes, and had braces) beside him to help him do things blind people couldn't do alone, was resting his head on the desk.

That wasn't like Starflight at all.

Sunny, who had blonde hair and light green eyes, wasn't there entirely.

Huh. Sunny never misses school. She's, like, super proud of her perfect attendance.

Clay wasn't in their Algebra class, so he didn't know if he came or not. He would see in third period.

He was about to ask someone if they had seen Glory when the bell rang. He wallowing in his chair, huffing in frustration and annoyance.

The teacher came in, her eyes staring at the class sadly like her whole family had died. She was dressed 100% black, like this was a funeral home. But then, she also had a reputation for being extremely crazy.

She took attendance, her gaze traveling over the room unconsciously. "Who's missing? Anybody?"

"Sunny and Fierceteeth," Starflight said grimly.

"Thank you, Starflight," Ms. Blaze said softly. Her eyes were heavy and bloodshot.

It came our on accident- he didn't even raise his hand, which was really a bummer because Ms. Blaze was super sensitive about it- and he regretted it as soon as he said it because everyone turned and stared at him, making him feel embarrassed and an outcast.

"You missed Glory."

Somebody started booing at him and some of them started to shoot him dirty looks, like his comment was a sick joke. Was it that much of a ridiculous question? At the sound of the name Glory a cheerleader that he didn't even know started bawling her eyes out.

He was confused.

Ms. Blaze sighed, and didn't meet his eyes as she shushed everyone in the class and answered his question:

"Deathbringer, Glory committed suicide yesterday."


	2. 1 Starting The Tape

Tape 1, Side A

one month later

It was lunch.

"Eat something! Eat my chips," Clay, who had shining brown eyes and brown hair, offered. He looked at Deathbringer hopefully with wide brown eyes.

"No," he answered flatly.

Tsunami narrowed her eyes at him, taking a small bite out of her tuna sandwich. "Stop acting like a dork. We're all grieving. So you think she wanted us to be this way, or what? Dude. This isn't cool."

"Well, " he snapped, rolling his eyes. "It doesn't matter what she thinks, does it, now? She's dead."

Starflight didn't even pay attention, probably since Deathbringer and Tsunami yelled at each other every time they sat together for lunch. He was probably used to it now. He just silently listened to music with a grim expression on his face.

"What did you say?" Tsunami stood up, her voice raising. Her cheeks were flushed in anger, and her fingers were clenched into a fist. She would squash him like a bug.

Or perhaps not. Perhaps the hours he spent in karate would pay him well. Probably not.

"'Nami, please sit down," Riptide Sanford begged. Tsunami ignored him, fuming.

"Did you just say GLORY WAS DEAD?!" Tsunami screamed. Some students turned and stared at her. At them. "I can't even— you—you are so dead, Death Guy—!"

Then she screamed in frustration and grabbed her lunch and threw it to the trash can, pointing an angry finger at it. It made a loud clang sound. "See that? You're next, bro! Congrats!"

Deathbringer stood up so that their eyes were at the same level as each other. "Well, it's true, isn't it? No need to act all"— he glared at Tsunami, motioning with his hands— "sensitive about it."

Tsunami grabbed him by the collar and they both fell down to the ground, and when she was about to punch him Sunny grabbed her arm and dragged her back to her seat. She was still snarling at Deathbringer, and he was sneering.

"Deathbringer, come back here." Sunny looked extremely upset. "Why do you guys have to fight every single day? Can't we eat lunch in peace?"

Deathbringer glared pointedly at Tsunami. "Apparently not. I would like to." Not that I eat, he added silently. He had been starving himself for weeks.

Sunny sighed. "Tsunami, Deathbringer...Glory would seriously not want this. Even if she was here, she won't appreciate it. I know she took her life a month ago, but I hope that brings us together, not take us farther apart." Sunny looked around in hope. "We don't want that to happen again."

Tsunami huffed and got up, her face as hard as stone. It was obvious Sunny's words did not have an impact on her, and that she wasn't sorry at all. "I have to pee. Bye. See you guys never."

Clay made a face, gagging. "Seriously? I was eating!"

Tsunami shrugged. "I might swim some laps in the swimming pool because we have a meet today. And I'm the captain and all..."

"Have fun!" Sunny tried to say cheerfully. Before Tsunami turned away, she gave Deathbringer a look. "Just because you can't get with the game doesn't mean you should slow everybody else down with you, man," she growled, hitting his chest with her lunch box. Then she scoffed and walked away, fuming under her breath. Deathbringer kept silent.

Sunny pushed her tray away, frowning. "Deathbringer, I want to give you something."

He ran his fingers through his thick black hair, irritated. He wasn't in the mood to act all cheery and happy when he was not. Poor Sunny, though."What?"

Sunny bit her lip. "Something...very important."

He was curious now. He leaned forward. This secret seemed...special. "What is it, Sunny? Tell me."

She hesitated, then handed him something under the table.

It was a tape.

"Wow, thanks. Is it from a garage sale or something? I feel so honored and everything..." He smirked at her, but she didn't smile back.

Sunny looked around to make sure nobody was watching. Then she lowered her voice, dropping her green eyes. "Deathbringer. This is from Glory."

Glory. The name hammered his heart an pain bursted all around his body, numbing him, like a tornado passed through him. It was agony. To hear her name. "W-What?"

"Thirteen tapes," Sunny whispered quitely. "Each one of them— t-they are the reasons Glory committed...you know...suicide." She winced at the word.

He didn't say anything. He stared at the tape, speechless. It was certainly something.

"If you are mentioned in the tape, you have the choice to hear it." Sunny closed his hands around the tape with her fingers. They had only known each other for a few months, but she already felt something like a sister to him. "t-this is the first one. I am strictly not allowed to give this to you. But, Deathbringer...you need to hear Glory's tale. You deserve to know."

He opened his mouth to say something, but the bell rang and Sunny leaped out of her seat, flashing him one last painful grin, and ran like a pack of wolves were chasing her until she

He carefully placed the tape in the Walkman, which he had found somewhere deep in the garage. He tried to blow the dust away, but it was so old and caked with dust and dirt that it was pretty much an impossible task to do.

Only good thing about the junk: it could still play tapes.

He shakily made sure that everything was playing right and pressed Play, sucking in a very sharp breath. What will this even bring?

If you are hearing this, I am dead.

He stopped it. It was her— Glory. He hasn't heard her voice for a month, and the last time he had seen her was a a few weeks ago at her funeral.

Her voice, even though it was playing in a cassette player, was beautiful.

Alive.

His heart ached, and he closed his eyes for a moment to calm himself down. How didn't I know this?

He took a deep breath and pressed Play again.

Settle in, everyone. Grab a snack, maybe. A water bottle from the refrigerator. This will take a while, you know. Make sure you have everything you need.

You must be surprised. Yes, I probably have killed myself by now. You probably attended to my funeral.

I want to know: what did it feel like to you? To see my dead face. To see me in my casket, to know you murdered me? To know you were one of the reasons for me to die?

A soft laugh, as amused and gentle as the spring breeze. Get with the program, Glory. You're probably confused, I know. Let me explain.

There are thirteen sides. Thirteen people. Thirteen reasons.

If you're listening, you are one of those stories. You are one of those reasons. Your job is to listen, finish all thirteen, and pass them. Simple enough?

If you don't, something bad will happen...it will be published publicly.

Yes, I do have a second copy.

I will have someone publish it, and the entire world will know what you did. All you did. All thirteen of you.

The world we know who you truly are. What you are. Within the pretty faces and friendly smiles...What is the monster inside?

Glory took a deep breath, like she was surprised of herself just as Deathbringer was. I'm not trying to blame anyone, I swear. I just... want to explain, I guess. Explain, and make sure this won't happen again. Suicide, I mean. At least in our school, hopefully.

Don't worry. I don't tell lies in these tapes. I have no reason to, after all. It will be on one perspective, yes. But every word I say on these tapes...I promise you that I am saying the facts due to my best knowledge.

Why would a dead girl lie, anyway?

Glory paused again. I give you the rules. It's your choice to follow them, or face the consequences.

The truth is, everyone, there are thirteen reasons why I committed suicide.

And you, my friend, are one of them.

He trembled, his heart sinking.

Well, let's begin, shall we?

Why did I commit suicide? You are about to find out.

But first...

"Welcome to your tape, Riptide Sanford. "


	3. 2 Uh-Oh, Riptide Stanford

But first...

"Welcome to your tape, Riptide Sanford"

It was a beautiful day in mid-October, do you remember? The leaves were falling down from trees and we were officially friends for three years. We met in high school, and astonishingly we continued our friendship for three years.

I had a small crush on you, Riptide.

You seemed, always, so, so perfect— and all the girls from our school gossiped about you. They asked me if they could get your number, which I refused angrily every time.

Your features were unbelievably handsome and your blue eyes and your black hair always attracted me like an irresistible magnet. Your grin was beautiful and your hands matched perfectly with mine when we walked down the hall to get a cup of coffee. That was what you were, Riptide. Perfection. Simply perfection.

But it wasn't entirely your looks.

It was, after all, your well-known personality.

You were always kind to everyone. You always tried your best, and if someone happened to beat it, you didn't get jealous. Took were a good team player. Leader. Friend.

You weren't like other people. You weren't fake.

At least, that was what I thought.

You were a light of perfection. Flawless. Beautiful, and untouchable. So good that you were almost not human. Horrifyingly charming.

To me, you were my Camelot.

He pressed Pause. Whoa. Since when did Glory like Riptide? Sure, Riptide had been extremely popular over the years. He had been the school's champion in his freshman year, but everything changed when he suddenly decided to refuse his

He didn't know what he felt— anger? Jealousy? Horror? Confusion?

Was she lying?

Why would a dead girl lie?

He bit his lip and pressed Play again, his heart heavy. This couldn't possibly be true.

But it was.

To say the truth, I admired you. Another confession— it wasn't a small crush, dear, dear Riptide.

I loved you.

But, after fawning over you for months, after sharing a few heated kisses, I realized that you never loved me.

How? I have no idea. Maybe it was when you looked the other way when I tried to catch your gaze. I tried to do anything and everything. You always had something going on. Out dates were canceled at the last minute.

You started avoiding me little bit. Started flirting with other girls. A hint. A hint for me. A hint that said, back off. If you come this now, you won't get hurt. I don't feel the same way.

I didn't get the hint.

You— my best friend and the only love of my life that time— had used me.

If you had told me straight in the face, I might even had moved on. Deep, deep in my heart— maybe I knew we won't work out. It just wasn't meant to be.

But we didn't end that way.

The night you broke my heart, we were at a party. A Halloween party. And you just had to invite me. You just had to break my heart until shreds.

I—

"Deathbringer?" A knock came on his door, and he whipped his headphones off, startled. He quickly pressed Pause.

"Oh, hi, Mom."

"What are you listening to?" His mother said sharply. Her black eyes narrowed cautiously, her inner side hinting themselves. She eyes her son suspiciously, pressing her lips together in displeasure.

"History," he said quickly. "I...I had to it with Sunny. It's for an extra credit. Y-you know, since I didn't do well in the test the other day." He managed to give a nervous shrug. "I guess I need it."

She still didn't seem convinced. "Ask Sunny if you don't believe me," he said, trying to sound hurt.

She softened immediately, but he couldn't avoid the distrustful look she gave him a moment after. She didn't trust him. Never did. Never would. "I believe you," she said, biting her lip. Her eyes showed the fake love, always fake. But he was used to it. "Deathbringer...I wanted to tell you something. "

"What?" He wanted get back to those tapes.

"Morrowseer..."

Morrowseer. Deathbringer hated that man. He would smoke in the house and use his mother's money restlessly. He always played with her and only stayed with her because of her money and lust.

He was a monster.

"He asked me to marry him," she said, blushing. That explained her almost-good mood. "And I said yes. "

He stared at her in horror. "Mom...?"

"Mother," she corrected him, her sharp self returning almost immediately. "And yes?"

He wanted to say that she was insane, but he kept his mouth shut. No use trying to convince his mother otherwise: she would never listen to him in a million lifetimes. The next few months would be complete horror.

"Nothing. Can I get back to the tapes now?"

She smiled, brightening up. "Sure. Love you. Make sure to get some sleep," she said, her eyes warning up with fake love. But the excitement was clear.

She tried harder, after the incident. Tried harder to get them closer, to get them trusting each other again. Tried to be warmer, more like a mother.

But it didn't help that he dreamed of it almost every night. The scream. The temporary, wild going on her eyes as she dragged him out of his room and struck him.

He was four.

"Gevin," she sobbed. "why have you left me with this? I hate you. I hate you!" She stared at him wildly. He was crying, his whole body red. He was begging her to stop, but she wouldn't listen. He was in agony, and the figure of her mother was a small blur. "You used me! And when I told you about this, you cheated on me...You left me behind...with this thing that reminds me of you every day...!"

Then she took a chair, her eyes glazing with crazed tears, and crashed it onto him...

He shuddered.

He turned back to the tapes after his mom shut the door. Then he waited for a few minutes to be complete sure, then placed his headphones carefully on his ears, making sure only he could hear the tape. He didn't want anybody to find out about these.

I only have you left, Glory, he thought, sighing. His life seemed hopeless right now.

Well, your tapes...

He breathed deeply and pressed Play.

— I was wearing a dress. They had a rainforest theme, with an artificial leaf here and there.

The dress was the best I had ever owned. I wanted to look nice for your party, Riptide, because this day I was determined to make you fall in love with me. How naïve I was. How stupid.

When I went in, I was nervous. So many people were there, but none of them had a full costume like me. They had subtle details— pig ears, eye patch, devil horns, et cetera. But when I went in, with my rainforest costume, people whistled and laughed. Nobody said anything mean, though.

I had authority. I was your girlfriend, after all. I wish I had enjoyed it. It was my last night in the position.

I was extremely uncomfortable. People were making out everywhere. In the hallways, in the pools, in the party rooms. I was eager to find you.

I tried to look my best for you and you only— and there you were, grinning and talking with Tsunami, your arm around her shoulders. You guys were very close, and were staring at each other, half-smile on your lips. Like you were in a dream. Like you were in love.

You guys seemed flushed...like you had shared a kiss a moment ago. Then you guys did kiss. A slow, agonizing one. A kiss, I could tell, that You both meant. And I just stood there. With my eyes wide open.

That moment, my heart stopped. I slowly backed away

Then you spotted me.

I ran, embarrassed, and my eyes shining with tears. Dread filled me. My heart was suddenly made out of led. I wanted very badly to demand what was going on, I wanted to know if you cheated on me. Was it a dare? Was it a sick joke?

I figured you would run after me and try to explain. I was your girlfriend, after all. Maybe it was one-sided. But I thought You deserved an explanation.

You never did, though.

At the morning at school, I tried to talk to you. But you avoided me, and Tsunami avoided me. I caught you staring at me once, but when I caught your eye, you looked away. Quickly.

But I saw the emotions in your eyes:

Guilt.

And when I finally caught up with Tsunami, she frowned at me, and said, "I wasn't at the party, Glory."

But you were, I wanted to say. I saw you, Tsunami.

I saw you with him.

Your betrayal hurt me. You, the only person I had loved at the time, had betrayed me, cheated on me. Used me like a doll.

And with my best friend.

Tsunami and I eventually made up, of course. We didn't want to let boy drama get between our friendship. We shrugged it off and went to being best buddies.

But I never forgot.

You and I, we never made up. We never talked to each other or did anything of that sort.

I loved you, Riptide. And it took me three years to get over you.

Especially when you were kissing my best friend the night after the incident.

Betrayal.

You were the first thread, Riptide. Do you feel happy now?

You used me like a toy. You were nice enough— but you had one fatal flaw.

You were a coward.

You never had the courage to apologize for what you did.

And you broke my heart.

Sunny was at his locker at the morning, looking grim and her short hair tied back to a ponytail, which he had never seen before. Her brows were contorted into a frown.

"I finished it," he said it as a greeting as he opened his locker. He kept his eyes firmly glued on his blue locker. "And I'm going to kill Riptide."

Sunny looked more upset than ever. "No, Deathbringer. Riptide had his reasons. You...have to hear his side. The tapes — they're pretty one-sided."

Well, it sounded pretty bad for a one-sided story.

"Cheating," he growled darkly, "on her. And he didn't even...apologize..I thought Riptide was a nice guy—"

Sunny pressed her lips together. Ever since Glory's suicide, she had been acting sad recently. She used to be the happiest person in the world.

"I'll just talk to him," Deathbringer said, trying to make her feel better. He felt guilty. She didn't deserve any of this. He tried to give her an easygoing smile and shrugged. "that's all."

Sunny immediately brightened up, her whole face clearing with relief. "Promise?"

"Promise."

She gave him a grin and ran to her first period class. And when he came in, she was humming a song he didn't know.

The promise obviously meant a lot to her.

However, that was one of the few promises he did not keep.


	4. 3 There Is A Different Side

"Riptide, I want to talk to you about something," he snarled. He pushed him up to the wall and gave him an angry sneer.

Riptide narrowed his blue eyes. "You started the tapes."

Deathbringer gave him a small smile, although he didn't mean it. No, not at all. "I did."

Riptide sighed in exasperation, although his eyes sparkled with guilt and fear. He leaned against the wall, closing his eyes.

"I guess you want me to explain?" He guessed, his hands fidgeting.

"Your guess is right."

He stared at the ground, his black hair falling swiftly in his eyes and his blue eyes clear as the sea. "I don't have much time, you know."

Deathbringer curled his lip. He was willing to force him in necessary. "Oh, you need to meet up with your girlfriend, eh?" He sneered. Riptide grimaced. "I thought you were a honest guy, and now— look at what you did to her!"

Riptide threw his hands up into the empty air. "She lies. She's nothing but a little small town girl that craves attention. This is a waste of my time." He snarled back. "Get out of my way, Black."

"You have enough time," he hissed.

Riptide sighed, pushing his hands into his pockets. In the school, he was a legend. Deathbringer didn't care, though. "Not a choice, huh?"

He shook his head. "No."

Riptide have up, shrugging. "In the beginning, I was popular. Really, really popular. I was about to get accepted in the jocks' group," Riptide started bitterly. He kicked at a empty soda can, grimacing like the past was a bitter memory to him. "And, if you haven't realized, Glory isn't exactly the most popular girl in the school. I wanted to break up with her, and I wanted to do it clean so she won't bother me anymore. And I needed to find someone else that could help my reputation."

Deathbringer felt tremendously angry, but he squished it down. "So you cheated?" He said calmly.

"Tsunami wasn't part of the plan, but I fell in love with her at the party, okay? I had a crush on her since I was really little," Riptide continued, not meeting his eyes. He bit his lip anxiously. "And everyone liked Tsunami better than Glory. It was a party—" his voice rose in panic as he wove the webs in his story. "—I was drunk, so was she..."

Deathbringer frowned. "Still—"

"That's why she can't remember what happened in the party and she always tells Glory that she wasn't there," Riptide said, looking up and eyeing their surroundings suspiciously. "I didn't mean to cheat. But I wasn't on my right mind and I liked Tsunami. I would never do that to Glory in my right mind."

He inhaled and exhaled. "I really liked her. Glory, I mean. She looked for the truth of things." Riptide's eyes narrowed. "She was...different. But I wanted her to be happy. She deserved to be happy. We just weren't meant to be...together."

Deathbringer's insides twisted with jealousy. Even the legend of the whole high school was admitting he liked Glory. Deathbringer was no match to Riptide. Not even a tiny bit. He felt himself soften a little at the desperate sound of Riptide's voice and he released him. "Why didn't you explain it to her?" He whispered.

Riptide staggered like he was injured. He shook his head, gasping for air like each breath he took could be his last. "I...I was afraid. I wanted to get in the jocks' group, and if I was talking to her I would ruin the whole thing...and I didn't even remember what happened at the party until I listened to the tape."

Deathbringer walked away from him like a disease he didn't want to touch. Riptide eyes him with wide eyes, by didn't try to go. At least he faced his consequences.

Then he remembered: he was in the tapes. He was just as bad as Riptide himself.

There are thirteen reasons why I died.

And you're one of them.

"Then?" He said sharply, struggling to get his mind off the thought. "Then what?"

"She was suddenly avoiding me, so I didn't ask her what was wrong. I went out with Tsunami." He frowned. "I didn't think... J didn't think she take it that badly. I didn't think she would think it like that." He sighed. "Besides, she was the one that broke up with me. She left me a note in my locker."

Deathbringer didn't ask what happened next. Everyone knew.

"Then Glory killed herself a few months later. I listened to the tapes and realized what I did. The jocks asked me if I wanted to be in their group," he snarled, his usually kind face contorted into disgust and guilt and anger. He seemed broken.

He broke a girl named Glory, and she broke him.

"Then, I refused. Happy? Can I please go now?"

"...You can," he heard himself say slowly.

Riptide swing his backpack over his shoulder and started to walk away then looked back. He had a grown in his face. An expression filled with concern. He looked...

...sorry for him. "Deathbringer, what tape are you on?"

Deathbringer kept his straight face. "I just finished yours. Why?"

Riptide looked around. "Don't go around asking for the other side of the story and demanding to know why they did it, Deathbringer. Some of them...won't like it."

He felt his heart drop.

"If they find out that you started the tapes, the word will go around like crazy. And it will be over for all of us."

"Why?"

Riptide shook his head but didn't answer his question. He felt the answer in the air, though. It was written across Riptide's face: you don't want to know. "Just saying. This is a bad idea, Deathbringer. Listen to the tapes quickly and pass them to the next person. The more quickly you listen to them, the better."

Riptide's words actually sort of scared him, but he kept a calm face, shrugging. Then Riptide ran, maybe because he didn't want to be spotted with Deathbringer or because he didn't want to be late to his first period.

Deathbringer tried to clear his mind and replayed the conversation with him and Riptide. He wanted to ignore Riptide's warning.

For now.

There was a different side to the story. Like Riptide. If Glory had asked what was going on, or Riptide had explained, none of this might have happened.

But it did.

Deathbringer sat down disappointedly. He dug into his backpack and took out the cassette tape player, sighing. He eyed it, pressing his lips together. Who knew such a small thing would cause such a trouble? He threw his backpack somewhere and leaned on the brick wall, resting his tortured mind.

He was going to skip school today.

He put the different side of the tape, closed the lid and put his headphones on, closing his eyes.

Sometimes there was a different side of Glory's story.

But sometimes, he knew, that there was not.

The second tape was an example.

Moving on from you, Riptide, was harder than anything I had experienced.

But I tried not to be vulnerable.

But you know what? I was anyway.

Welcome to your tape, Scarlet Burn...

~


	5. 4 Scarlet Does It Once Again

"Riptide, I want to talk to you about something," he snarled. He pushed him up to the wall and gave him an angry sneer.

Riptide narrowed his blue eyes. "You started the tapes."

Deathbringer gave him a small smile, although he didn't mean it. No, not at all. "I did."

Riptide sighed in exasperation, although his eyes sparkled with guilt and fear. He leaned against the wall, closing his eyes.

"I guess you want me to explain?" He guessed, his hands fidgeting.

"Your guess is right."

He stared at the ground, his black hair falling swiftly in his eyes and his blue eyes clear as the sea. "I don't have much time, you know."

Deathbringer curled his lip. He was willing to force him in necessary. "Oh, you need to meet up with your girlfriend, eh?" He sneered. Riptide grimaced. "I thought you were a honest guy, and now— look at what you did to her!"

Riptide threw his hands up into the empty air. "She lies. She's nothing but a little small town girl that craves attention. This is a waste of my time." He snarled back. "Get out of my way, Black."

"You have enough time," he hissed.

Riptide sighed, pushing his hands into his pockets. In the school, he was a legend. Deathbringer didn't care, though. "Not a choice, huh?"

He shook his head. "No."

Riptide have up, shrugging. "In the beginning, I was popular. Really, really popular. I was about to get accepted in the jocks' group," Riptide started bitterly. He kicked at a empty soda can, grimacing like the past was a bitter memory to him. "And, if you haven't realized, Glory isn't exactly the most popular girl in the school. I wanted to break up with her, and I wanted to do it clean so she won't bother me anymore. And I needed to find someone else that could help my reputation."

Deathbringer felt tremendously angry, but he squished it down. "So you cheated?" He said calmly.

"Tsunami wasn't part of the plan, but I fell in love with her at the party, okay? I had a crush on her since I was really little," Riptide continued, not meeting his eyes. He bit his lip anxiously. "And everyone liked Tsunami better than Glory. It was a party—" his voice rose in panic as he wove the webs in his story. "—I was drunk, so was she..."

Deathbringer frowned. "Still—"

"That's why she can't remember what happened in the party and she always tells Glory that she wasn't there," Riptide said, looking up and eyeing their surroundings suspiciously. "I didn't mean to cheat. But I wasn't on my right mind and I liked Tsunami. I would never do that to Glory in my right mind."

He inhaled and exhaled. "I really liked her. Glory, I mean. She looked for the truth of things." Riptide's eyes narrowed. "She was...different. But I wanted her to be happy. She deserved to be happy. We just weren't meant to be...together."

Deathbringer's insides twisted with jealousy. Even the legend of the whole high school was admitting he liked Glory. Deathbringer was no match to Riptide. Not even a tiny bit. He felt himself soften a little at the desperate sound of Riptide's voice and he released him. "Why didn't you explain it to her?" He whispered.

Riptide staggered like he was injured. He shook his head, gasping for air like each breath he took could be his last. "I...I was afraid. I wanted to get in the jocks' group, and if I was talking to her I would ruin the whole thing...and I didn't even remember what happened at the party until I listened to the tape."

Deathbringer walked away from him like a disease he didn't want to touch. Riptide eyes him with wide eyes, by didn't try to go. At least he faced his consequences.

Then he remembered: he was in the tapes. He was just as bad as Riptide himself.

There are thirteen reasons why I died.

And you're one of them.

"Then?" He said sharply, struggling to get his mind off the thought. "Then what?"

"She was suddenly avoiding me, so I didn't ask her what was wrong. I went out with Tsunami." He frowned. "I didn't think... J didn't think she take it that badly. I didn't think she would think it like that." He sighed. "Besides, she was the one that broke up with me. She left me a note in my locker."

Deathbringer didn't ask what happened next. Everyone knew.

"Then Glory killed herself a few months later. I listened to the tapes and realized what I did. The jocks asked me if I wanted to be in their group," he snarled, his usually kind face contorted into disgust and guilt and anger. He seemed broken.

He broke a girl named Glory, and she broke him.

"Then, I refused. Happy? Can I please go now?"

"...You can," he heard himself say slowly.

Riptide swing his backpack over his shoulder and started to walk away then looked back. He had a grown in his face. An expression filled with concern. He looked...

...sorry for him. "Deathbringer, what tape are you on?"

Deathbringer kept his straight face. "I just finished yours. Why?"

Riptide looked around. "Don't go around asking for the other side of the story and demanding to know why they did it, Deathbringer. Some of them...won't like it."

He felt his heart drop.

"If they find out that you started the tapes, the word will go around like crazy. And it will be over for all of us."

"Why?"

Riptide shook his head but didn't answer his question. He felt the answer in the air, though. It was written across Riptide's face: you don't want to know. "Just saying. This is a bad idea, Deathbringer. Listen to the tapes quickly and pass them to the next person. The more quickly you listen to them, the better."

Riptide's words actually sort of scared him, but he kept a calm face, shrugging. Then Riptide ran, maybe because he didn't want to be spotted with Deathbringer or because he didn't want to be late to his first period.

Deathbringer tried to clear his mind and replayed the conversation with him and Riptide. He wanted to ignore Riptide's warning.

For now.

There was a different side to the story. Like Riptide. If Glory had asked what was going on, or Riptide had explained, none of this might have happened.

But it did.

Deathbringer sat down disappointedly. He dug into his backpack and took out the cassette tape player, sighing. He eyed it, pressing his lips together. Who knew such a small thing would cause such a trouble? He threw his backpack somewhere and leaned on the brick wall, resting his tortured mind.

He was going to skip school today.

He put the different side of the tape, closed the lid and put his headphones on, closing his eyes.

Sometimes there was a different side of Glory's story.

But sometimes, he knew, that there was not.

The second tape was an example.

Moving on from you, Riptide, was harder than anything I had experienced.

But I tried not to be vulnerable.

But you know what? I was anyway.

Welcome to your tape, Scarlet Burn...

(This chapter was like, kinda short, sorry guys! Also this is super sloppy. The revenge wasn't exactly expected, but get ready for Scarlet, one of our biggest and ugliest villains in the world of Wings of Fire! You will realize that she is as horrible when she has a pretty face and a cheerleader outfit...)


	6. 5 Bullies? You bet (Part 1)

Tape 2, Side A

A few days after he had finished the second tape, he received a full package. Morrowseer seemed to forget his existence and was inviting people to their house like he owned it.

Quickstrike had to work harder than ever.

The package didn't have a return address, and it was carefully hidden at his bedroom, covered with junk he had found in his closet. It was stored safely in his drawer, piled with bags of unopened potato chips and whatnot; he made sure his stepfather will never see it.

But many of the tapes were missing- including the third one.

Deathbringer had one choice- he called Sunny.

"What do you want?" Sunny's voice snapped. "Oh, sorry, Deathbringer. All the tapes thingy is making me tired. And the exams. And because the ice cream shop is getting broke and it's gonna close down soon. And the-"

"Yeah, I know. Sorry about that."

"Okay. So... what do you need?"

"Sunny, I need the third tape. I received the package, but they're missing."

"Lots of the tapes are missing."

"How?"

"They took them. The owners. They weren't supposed to do that...But they did. Because they were cowards, I guess."

"What do I do, then? "

"You have to get it from the owner herself."

"Who is it?"

"The owner? "

"Yeah."

" Kestrel Goldenberg. "

Kestrel Goldenberg was 100% bully.

Her fiery red hair and merciless black eyes. She was the horror of the school, and even the popular kids tried to avoid her. The rank didn't exist in Kestrel's eyes.

Irritate her and it was over.

The beatings can last for a minute to an hour. Every second of it was painful and people usually passed out from the impact.

Deathbringer didn't give a crap, though.

My life depends on a tape, on a voice, on a dead girl.

So reassuring.

So he knocked on Kestrel's house, crossing his weak arms and his eyes bloodshot from the lack of sleep.

"Yes?" A voice said as the door opened.

She was wearing what seemed like a long-sleeved shirt with jeans, but her arms were carefully hidden and her eyes were wide with wary and caution.

She was beautiful, no doubt. Her thin, white face and her unpredictable aura. Her clear blue eyes and red lips. Her silky red hair and her perfect body.

She gave him a scowl.

"I-"

"Go away," she said softly. Peril Goldenberg was one of the most popular girls in school; She wasn't very flirty but the boys were attracted to her anyway, partly because of her good looks and partly because she was hard to get.

Deathbringer stood his ground. "I want to talk to Kestrel. Is she here?"

"Kestrel?" Peril seemed surprised, but led him into her house. "I don't think she wants to see anyone right now."

Deathbringer stepped in and immediately noticed that it was not a normal house. He shrugged to answer Peril's comment.

It was gigantic. Great, big hallways led into many different ways and rich paintings and sculptures were all around the house.

"Big house," he commented.

Peril sighed. "Yeah. Sadly."

He tried to keep the conversation going. "Is Kestrel in a good mood?"

Peril stared at him. "She's never in a good mood, Black. And why are you here?"

"Just..."

"The tapes," Peril whispered softly. She seemed tired, without her usual makeup and her whole gang. Now that he thought about it, Peril became more and more exhausted after Glory's suicide. More...broken. More uninterested in things.

"You know about them?" He said, surprised.

Peril gave him a look that he didn't understand. "Yeah."

He nodded, because he didn't know what else to do. "Oh..?" He ran his hand through his black hair, whistling. "Remember when we used to be best buddies? Good old times," he said, watching her in the corner of his eye for reaction.

She winced like his words hurt her. "Yeah..."

"I wonder what happened between us, you know?"

Peril shrugged. "Everything."

Peril finally stopped at the front of a door. "This is her room. Don't tell her I let you in." She placed an index finger on her lips, then disappeared into a different room.

He knocked, because he didn't know what else to do.

The door abruptly opened and Kestrel Goldenberg stood before him.

She looked surprised for a second, but then she growled.

"What the heck are you doing here, freak?"

"Such a nice welcome," He mumbled before he raised his voice. "I need the third tape," he said effortlessly .

Kestrel stared at him like she wanted him to die right in front of her eyes. "What makes you think I am going to give it to you so easily?" She sneered.

He pondered for a moment. He didn't really have a reason why.

Except one.

"Because," he said, "you owe me that, Goldenberg."

For a second her fierce scowl wavered. "How?"

They're cowards, I guess, Sunny's voice echoed in his mind.

"Because you owe me that! Because Glory gave me the right to know why she committed suicide. And you're taking the right she gave me away. You don't have the power to do that. It was her choice, her tapes, her death. All you had to do was shut up and listen to it!"

Kestrel dragged him into her room and pushed him over to the wall, her eyes fiery with anger. And something else he had never seen in Kestrel before: fear. "Watch your words, moron."

"You're a coward!" He screamed. "You don't want people listening to your tape because you are a coward! "

Then Kestrel punched him, her face slowly turning red in uncontrollable anger. Her voice was rough. "I am not a coward!"

His vision was dizzy but he managed to speak. "But you are. You have no right to take Glory's tapes away!"

"Lies!" Kestrel spat, shaking him, and he thought there were tears in her eyes. "She speaks lies. I never did all that. She's a self-conscious brat that wants attention!"

Deathbringer kicked her stomach and got on top of her, his hands shaking in anger. "Don't talk about her that way!" He roared, pushing Kestrel back. She hardly moved against his arms.

Kestrel laughed. "She wants us to suffer for giving her pain. But you know what? That's life. If she's too weak to accept it, she deserves the death!"

"Shut up!" he screamed. Glory is not that. Anything but that.

Kestrel dragged herself to the wall, her eye purple. She was definitely crying now. "You know what? I didn't want to cause her death!" She screamed at him. " do you think I did? I regret everything. If I could change my actions, I would...

"I don't want her to die," Kestrel sobbed. "I don't want to cause her death. I don't want to say that it was my fault... "

"Accept that you caused it," he said, gasping. "accept it, and don't do it again. That's all you can do, Goldenberg."

Kestrel snarled. She started to say something then stopped, then answered him. "Fine. Take my damn tape and do all you want with it."

She grabbed the tape from her drawer and threw it to him, and he caught it.

"Can I have your word on that?"

Kestrel glowered at him with her one, clear eye, and as she did so she led him out of her room, and started to close the door.

"Yes."


	7. 6 Bullies? You bet (Part 2)

If the troubles ended there, I might have lived. I might have moved on. Accepted that some troubles had to be overcome in life.

But they didn't stop.

And you, Kestrel Goldenberg, striked me over and over again.

And you made a clear message-

Three strikes, and you're out.

"Welcome to your tape, Kestrel Goldenberg"

I always believed that bad things had to end, just like good things did. Just one more night, I told myself. Tomorrow, everything will be better.

But my story didn't end that way.

To be honest...I was afraid of you. You were big, and your muscles rippled through your body like mountains. I have never felt much physical pain before, and I wanted to be on your good side.

But, somehow, at the practice for the play, The Dragonet Prophecy, I irritated you.

"The play calls for a boy with jet-black hair and brown eyes! You're not supposed to be here!" You somehow thought the play was very important. It, somehow, had a great meaning to you. You were the director, and I guess you liked being important.

And I had messed it up by just standing there.

The teacher snapped at you: "It's okay, Kestrel! We're out of actors already!" He seemed extra moody. "You don't have to be so picky, in the name of God!"

You seemed angry. You gave me a glare and pushed people out of the way until you reached me. You seemed embarrassed that you were being yelled by a teacher, and you found someone you could blame all your troubles on: me.

You grabbed me by the collar— which surprised me, making me stagger backwards— and snarled, "We will settle this tomorrow."

I was scared.

I knew your reputation, Kestrel. I knew you were the school bully and that I had got to your bad side. I wanted to say sorry. I wanted to beg the teacher to replace me with someone else.

But I didn't have the guts to do it.

Every single line of my part, which wasn't very long, I messed up. Whenever you screamed at me, I messed up even more.

Then you snapped.

While the teacher wasn't looking, you dragged me out of the gym and pushed me to the wall and punched me.

I felt the raw pain, felt your fists press my cheek as you punched me harder and harder.

"You messed it up!" You snarled. "that play is important, and we can't do it perfectly with you, freak. You're a stupid moron. A lazy, idiotic moron that is simply worthless."

I fell from your grip, bleeding. You kicked me in the stomach and I wanted to cry. So much pain. So much emotion. So much words.

I curled up into a ball— and then, in a moment of silence, you gave me a look, almost gentle. You seemed to feel pity. It probably wasn't. Maybe I was feeling an urge of nausea. I was close to passing out.

Then it was gone.

You went in, and I heard you say "She felt sick and went home."

I did go home, bleeding and barely able to walk. You thought I had a big, cozy house with my own little family, didn't you? Someone I could tell you on, or make myself feel better with?

I didn't.

I lived in a small apartment and my parents put me to foster care when I was only two months old. I lived alone, and I had no one to share my bad days with, or laugh about my good days.

I had no one. Simply...no one.

Do you know how many days I suffered? It made me angry, how you had a perfect, rich life and ruined lesser people's lives.

I already had cuts on my arms. And you made them bruises.

You have no idea how much I cried in the shower. It wasn't because of the pain outside. It was the pain inside.

You have no idea how much pain you caused me in both sides.

If they ended there...

You know the drill, don't you?

You beat me up the day after my first beating.

And another.

Nobody got a beating three days straight— so why me?

Deathbringer hated himself for remembering now- but he remembered when Glory acted very fidgety one day and talked to someone privately. He didn't see the face since they talked in a different room, but he remembered thinking that it probably was Ms. Blaze, who didn't like Glory for some reason. A few minutes later he went out to search for her, but she was gone.

I'm sorry, Glory. He didn't know it, but tears were forming in his eyes at his friend's long suffer. I should have been there...

I'm sorry...

My cuts became bruises. My bruises became scars.

My scars caused pain. Pain caused tears.

Tears caused suicide.

All connected beautifully, don't you think, dear, dear Kestrel?

The final night, do you remember what you whispered to me?

Because, unfortunately, I do.

After two hours of beating, in the dark, dark night, this is what you whispered in my ear:

"Three strikes, you're out."

Then you didn't beat me again. But I know you were pleased when I quit the play. I had to wear a thick sweater and lots of makeup until the bruises on my face started to heal. It took a long time.

My heart never did, though.

You moved on and targeted other kids. You didn't look back at the girl with green stripes in her hair that you beat for three days. I was just another plaything for you. You probably didn't give me a second thought. Everyone moved on.

I never moved on, though.

I always got jumpy after your beatings. whenever someone tried to hug me or even touch my hand for comfort, I would snap and move it away.

The truth was, I was scared.

Did you enjoy? Enjoy hurting people that were weaker than you? Did you take pride in what you did?

Three strikes...

...and you're out.

Forever.


	8. 7 Heartbreak

Tape 2, Side B

(Especially sad. Avoid if possible ;)

"Deathbringer?"

He wanted to curl into a ball and sleep, but it was impossible. All the tapes were making him dizzy. He really didn't want to talk. "Leave me alone!" He yelled.

Quickstrike tried to open the door, but he had already been prepared for that. It was locked and impossible to open because the bed was pushed against it.

"Deathbringer!" Her voice started to get sharp. "come out here right now, young man!"

He blinked for a few moments, leaning his head against the door, his lips tightly pressed together.

"No." The word sounded bitter in his mouth. He had never said no to Quickstrike. Even when she said no to him every time he asked for something. He had always told himself it had to be that way. Resisted the temptation to throw tantrums. Their family was poor. He had to accept it.

But now, he didn't want to smile when he didn't feel like it and obey his mother when she was wrong. He didn't was to hide like a small child.

He was big now. Perhaps not enough to stand from his own mother, but enough to make his very own decisions.

He was tired— oh, so terribly tired.

"What did you say?" He felt bad for affecting her when he was the one in a bad mood, but he really wanted to be alone— no, needed to be alone.

He needed time. Time to digest. A break to take everything in. A small moment of peace a d muddle of complicated thoughts.

Then his anger exploded, spitting and twisting in fury, hot with dissatisfaction.

"I said no!" he screamed. Then the words flowed out, splashing everywhere like a waterfall. He paused for a moment, tasting the word in his mouth.

Even though he could not see his mother, he knew her face was contorted with surprise.

He couldn't stop. "I always said yes, every time you asked me about something! I tried to be a good son! For you..."

He gasped for breath. His chest raised and fell, and his eyes ran through his room like he was desperately trying to find something important. His heart hammered in his chest. "But you always say no. Do you know how many times I got ridiculed and laughed at because of you?" —He wanted to stop, but he couldn't — "I always thought we were a poor family. I tried to accept that. But then I realized, it wasn't because we were poor. It was because...because you don't like me. You don't like me because you didn't like my dad, and don't get me wrong, I don't give a crap who he is. All I ever cared about is you."

He gripped his doorknob until his knuckles turned white, and his eyes blinked shut. Shut safely, against this dangerous, hateful world. "You don't like me, but you feel sorry for me. So you kept me, but every time you see me you see my dad. Don't you think I caught you looking at me with that expression? You wish I wasn't born. You like Morrowseer enough to get everything he would ever want, but you don't like your own son—"

"Deathbringer..." Quickstrike was sobbing now. Yet, she did not deny anything.

"And you got tired of Morrowseer asking things for you, didn't you? But you're to scared to say no to him. You're a coward. You just want someone to take care of you. You want someone to clean the mess you made. But, guess what? It's not going to work. It never works."

He finished, gasping. Ever word he had squished deep down in his heart had came out. He realized tears were flowing out of his eyes like waterfall, and he silently wiped them off. He didn't want Quickstrike to think she controlled his emotions.

"I just wanted to please you," he whispered hoarsely. "I loved you. But when did you ever love me back? Outside, you act like a mom, but inside...when nobody's watching...you hate me. "

His mouth felt dry. "You hate me. Wait, that's it, isn't it. You— you hate me." He fell against the door, his eyes clouded with pain from deep, deep inside. "You hate me."

He cried. He cried out loud, because he had to, to get everything out, or he felt like he would die. He inhaled deeply. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for...for everything."

He opened his eyes, not bothering to wipe the tears. So, so weak.

An agonizing, silent pause dragged out afterwards. Both mother and son leaned against one door, both unable to avoid the truth.

Then, Quickstrike only said this before she left: "I tried my best, Deathbringer."

And that was the last time he ever heard anything from his mother.

It was raining and stormy outside. There was a big storm coming up. Deathbringer watched from his window as his mother's car slowly came out of their driveway.

Then she went fast. Probably eighty miles per hour. Rain was coming hard, lightning was flashing.

Three minutes later, in her car, she got hit by lightning.

And died.

Her last words repeated in his brain, over and over again:

I tried my best, Deathbringer

Her funeral was horrible.

Morrowseer wasn't there, and Deathbringer was one of only five people that came.

Quickstrike's parents came, and her two friends. They were silently crying. They didn't even glance at him. It was like he didn't exist at all. Not that he cared.

What he cared about was that he couldn't bear to look at her face. Her peaceful expression was wrong, so wrong. He just kept thinking— the last thing she said to him...and the lasting he said to her.

He slipped away by the door, his eyes tearless and blank. Everything weighed down on him, and he couldn't bear it.

Nature— and fate— was cruel.

So, so cruel. His mother didn't deserve any of this— him, Morrowseer, the lightning. She didn't deserve this. She wasn't the one that screamed at someone just because she was in a bad mood.

It was him.

Nature was cruel. So, so cruel.

He didn't know what to do, or didn't care. He just wandered in the streets, hoping someone would jump on him and end his misery.

Nobody did.

He did the only thing he knew to do: He pushed Play.

It was cruel that I liked beautiful boys. This one had white hair and blue eyes, cold and merciless. You were surely beautiful, yes; but, as people say— sometimes, the outside doesn't matter.

It seems that it mattered to you.

"Welcome to your tape, Hailstorm Dickinson"

Deathbringer faintly remembered his name— he had went to the party where Glory met him, trying to get the courage of asking her out, but failing when Hailstorm appeared. He seemed so perfect compared to Deathbringer. And it didn't take long for Glory to realize that.

I wasn't exactly considered pretty in any matter.

I mean, there were many girls that would liked to date you. I admit that. Scarlet Burn. Lena Swisher. Jacqueline Koler. All the popular girls in our school.

Everyone liked beautiful boys.

You, of course, were a beautiful boy. Your soft white hair and sparkling blue eyes. Your perfect smile, your fit body. Tall and muscular.

You were in the varsity football and basketball. You were like our star, our god.

And, somehow, you showed interest in me.

I was careful, of course. I had learned my lesson when I dated Riptide. I wasn't going to make the same mistake again.

But, it turns out, you were a total different matter.

You liked to control things. Try to urge things to go your way.

I do give you credit, though, Hailstorm — you were good at it.

It was probably a dare. Maybe a bet. But when you showed up to a lame sophomore party, we treated you like a god.

All the pretty girls tried to flirt with you. You didn't even glance at them— but, somehow, when you saw me, you smiled.

A smile, which is quite dazzling with your handsome face. I didn't have time to think if it was fake or not.

We talked. You had me at your fingertips in three minutes.

Somebody didn't like that.

Scarlet.

You guys used to date, I heard. But then your brother, Winter, talked you out of it. It was probably wise.

But it didn't stop her from spreading rumors about me.

That night, I didn't mind. Spending time with you was magical to me. You probably don't even remember me, but I remembered you.

Do you remember?

Time seemed to go fast. After a couple days, we had our first kiss, which seemed like a miracle that time. We went to the movies. We went ice skating together.

You were kind. Funny. Charming. Not like any of the other jocks, who cares only about who slept in who's bed and who was dating who.

You were different.

Or, correction: you seemed different. But to state the truth...You weren't different. You were worse, even.

When you held me in your strong arms, I felt safe. Secure. I could throw all my fears at my back when I was with you.

But as we grew on each other, you started to change.

Maybe you were tired of acting gentle and wanted to go a step ahead. Maybe you wanted to get the relationship over with so you could date someone else. But this was what I saw:

Inside the beautiful smile, the beautiful blue eyes I always admired, was the cold and anger.

When we kissed, it became more over the top. You controlled everything. It was like I was a doll. A doll you had wanted, but was getting tired of.

Your eyes showed their insides.

When you controlled everything, dear, dear Hailstorm, you didn't want to lose it. So when we kissed, and you controlled it, you made sure I didn't speak out.

You gripped my arm so tightly when we did that. Sometimes you would just watch me with your blue eyes. Making sure your doll was safe, safe from everyone else.

Inside the Perfect Boy— was a monster.

Then, a day before Christmas, you threw me away.

Maybe that was your technique. If you were bored, you would get lower girls that looked at you like you were a god. Someone that nobody believed. Someone that believed that you were a monster, but nobody else would listen to.

As always, you were in control.

I had tried to tell people Riptide had ditched me. That Scarlet had lied to me. That Kestrel bullied me.

Nobody believed.

So when you threw me away, you did it hard.

"I liked our time together," you said. "But, honestly, it was kind of boring. I mean, you weren't the brightest person in the world. I think it'll be best if we broke out relationship now. So one of us don't go to waste."

Maybe you tried to say it as gentle as possible. Maybe you were just plain dense. Maybe you were an idiot. But every word you said— everything you were, to say the truth— marked my soul.

You taught me something, too, Hailstorm—

I learned not to trust beautiful boys with pretty smiles.

Because, it seems, outside isn't everything.


	9. 8 Fake Friends

Tape 3, Side A

Every time I think about you, I think this:

Fake things stay fake.

Don't you agree, Magnificent?

"Welcome to your tape, Magnificent Leffler"

Deathbringer didn't even go to school. He just walked and walked and walked. Listening to the tapes like his life depended on it. Pushing Play like it was the only thing he knew how to do.

Magnificent— you loved attention. Not attention on yourself— attention, bad attention, at other people.

And you loved knowing you caused it.

Now, the world was merciless. I thought about talking to someone but I knew I couldn't. Living my life was more scary than ending it.

Then you came along.

I didn't go to cafeteria for lunch, not anymore. It was like I forgot to socialize. I usually went to the library and didn't eat.

I met you there— in the library.

The school library was a paradise for me. Just silence. People minding their own business. No bullying. Just calmly reading, a safe zone from the bullies and the popular.

I was actually surprised to find you there, actually. You were the giggly, almost-pretty girl that everyone tried to be on your good side. Outside, you seemed pretty harmless. Inside, you were deadly.

You were Scarlet Burn's sidekick. Nobody trusted you, and you didn't trust anyone. You spread rumors, and you controlled everything in the school. Heard some news about someone? You already knew it.

You made sure you did.

You weren't the kind of girl that spent their lunch time in the library. You didn't read at all. You probably had stopped reading when you were in first grade.

At least, that's what I thought then— you came to the library for your own pleasure, whatever it was.

I was stupid.

Very, very stupid.

We didn't have a good history. You were always mad at me for being the Queen of the Forest in a stupid kindergarten musical. You wanted that part, and so did I.

I won.

Just like that— I beat you, and you didn't like that. Hated that, in fact. You swore revenge, and turns out you never forgot it.

So, after all those years, you remembered.

It seems, Magnificent, you remember everything. You didn't forget, and you made sure nobody else did, either.

Somehow, in the library, we became friends. We started having small conversations. Then big ones. I even leaned on you for support. I thought you had matured. I thought you had changed after all. I had small, wishful hope in my heart.

You didn't.

I was just stupid enough to think you did.

Then she stopped talking. Deathbringer thought he might have pushed Pause, but it turned out that it was Glory.

Glory was crying.

He heard her silently crying, then going out of control. She was crying like a small child, crying like someone who had a broken soul.

Did I deserve all of this?

More pause. He felt his eyes stinging, and he quickly entered a random store. Maybe getting a fresh drink.

Starbucks.

He ordered an ice coffee and sat down, running his face with his hands.

Nobody asked him why he wasn't in school. Nobody asked him, and nobody noticed him. His phone rang a couple times but he ignored it, sighing.

Magnificent...Did you know what I told myself? I told myself you were my friend. That you won't betray me like the others. That you were real, and you cared for me, and that you weren't acting.

You were, though.

He took a sip. He couldn't even taste it. But he took small sips, comforting himself, telling himself everything was going to turn out fine.

After a few weeks, you asked me about Riptide. At first I thought you were trying to get to know me better, but you kept asking me about him and Hailstorm. It was our normal conversation. You asked me about it everyday.

"How far did you guys get?" You asked one day. I squirmed uncomfortably.

Not far, I replied.

You looked disappointed. Then you quickly changed the subject to cover your mistake. You had it all planned out. I was just too dumb, too stupid, to realize it.

At lunch, we giggled and talked in the back room of the library. You told me things about other people.

Never about yourself.

Who did this and who did that. That was what you were all about. Knowing things others didn't. It made you proud, didn't it?

It had been only a few minutes, and he had drained the cup. He needed more. His mind was blank, and numb.

Then you stopped coming for a couple of days. I wondered: what did I do wrong?

I decided I would wait. Hope that you would come back and we can be friends again.

A day passed. Then two.

Then three.

At the third day, when I came to school, everyone seemed to be staring at me. They looked disgusted. And interested.

People tripped me in the hallways. People called me things. Boys whistled when I passed them. Girls have me disgusted looks. There were things scribbled on my locker, and a popular one was SLUT. I was called things. Things I didn't deserve to be called on. Can you guess?

You probably know by now. The rumor was pretty popular, or so I hear. You probably believe it.

I didn't even know what it was about.

But I got a hint, though. From a conversation from Peril Goldenburg and Scarlet Burn. It was at lunch. I was passing their table, but I heard my name mentioned. In fact, the entire table was buzzing about me. It went something like this:

"...Poor Hailstorm. He said he was drunk and she used him..."

"I didn't know she was capable of doing that..."

A giggle or two. "She's disgusting. I mean, only a psycho would ever do that."

"Hailstorm was disgusted..."

I had no idea what they were talking about. I didn't think much about it. Surely nobody would believe such an unlikely story like that?

Oh, I was wrong. So, so wrong.

You started avoiding me. I noticed that. Started to act like I didn't exist. I was tired of it, though.

When I finally confronted you, you sneered at me.

Your pretty face twisted, your amber eyes caught on fire. It had a wolfish look to it— wild, uncontrolled, pleased.

"Didn't you see?" You whispered lowly, looking at me straight in the eye. I felt like your prey.

"What?" I was scared, but I was angry. I just wanted to ask you why you were avoiding me. Why we weren't friends anymore.

But you explained everything. You just gave me a sly smirk and showed me a picture on your phone.

It was me. And Hailstorm.

Kissing...

I snatched the phone out of your hand, and you let me. I swiped and saw the other pictures— my nightmares.

It was me and Hailstorm, me and Riptide, ever picture, every moment, captured in this phone.

Pictures where I seemed like I controlled everything. Pictures that told the wrong story. Pictures where I seemed desperate. Wrong angle, wrong story.

You knew that.

"I-I—" I was gasping. I couldn't even breathe right. I stared at the pictures, tears falling from my eyes, my hand grasping my chest.

That's when I realized— you had taken those photos. You had spied on me and Hailstorm and Riptide. Taking pictures. Spreading rumors. You hated me, have always hated me.

Just for a stupid kindergarten musical.

But you don't like getting beaten, do you, dear Magnificent?

Scarlet asked you to, and you said yes. you had only acted like you were my friend to get information.

Betrayal.

Again.

You snatched your phone back, laughing. You pushed me to the wall, staring at me with bloodthirsty eyes. Then you gave me a wolfish grin that ruined your features entirely. "I don't like it when people stand in my way."

Then you walked out of the hallway, your hair swishing.

I was just one of your thousand victims. I stood in your way, and now I was removed.

That was your way of playing this game.

So you left me, left the girl you had removed, to crawl and die. You enjoyed hurting me. But now you had other people to remove.

You watched me for a long time, didn't you?

I just stood there, for a long time. Not going to class. Just thinking. Thinking about what you said. My mind slowly pushing everything together, like a puzzle.

And that night, I bought pills.

Pills that would end my life.


	10. 9 Death

Tape 3, Side B

Deathbringer felt pain.

He felt pain, and he didn't like it.

What was this? This ache in his heart, the sudden emptiness of losing a loved one.Being unable to talk or feel her anymore. No more soft, gentle talks, no moremotherly looks and no more fake relationships.

Mother.

It was like a part of him was dead.

Stabbed and jacked into little pieces. Thousand paper cuts that he wasn't able toprotect himself from.

He found out that even paper cuts hurt.

The pain didn't matter, not really. Even the ache could be contained and carefullycontrolled.

But not this—not the truth.

Truth—the horrible, cruel truth.

The fact his mother, Quickstrike, was dead—dead— that was truth.

He didn't know what to do.

So he went home.

There were still old cigarettes sticks from Morrowseer's stay, and they hardly hadanything in the house. Endless boxes. Boxes and boxes and boxes.

He was surprised to find himself disappointed.

What did he expect, though? His mother to greet him at the door? Reminding himnot to throw his backpack on the floor?Offering him a small plate of cookies?

His mother was dead.

Dead, and gone. Lifeless. Empty.

This wasn't his home anymore. A few days ago he had moved out, got himself a verysmall room in an apartment. He apparently didn't need a job until he was an adult,since relatives sent him money every month. He also had some money stored in hisbank account, thanks to Quickstrike's will. It wasn't much, but it was enough.

Greatness Night, his old friend from elementary school, had met him in Walmart byaccident, and they sat down in Wendy's to talk.

Greatness, who used to have a small, thin frame and pale face, had grown up to atotally different person. She had flowing black hair and sharp, black eyes. She wasgreatness--tall and beautiful, with power and authority.

It was a little nice for Deathbringer to meet her again. It made him feel a littlebetter, about his life and about everything.

But after their small meetings, when he had time (and no homework) he listened tothe tapes.

The tapes kept him sane.

Each tape was a reason for him to stay alive.

All thirteen reasons.

He would make sure that Glory's life would count.

And he did that by pushing Play.

I always found the moon beautiful.

So lonely, so cold, so powerful and bursting with beauty,

You were all of these things.

Welcome to your tape, Moonwatcher Foldger.

I'm sorry. I know you can't listen to your tape.

You're dead.

It all started when you moved to the school.

Such a bright girl—you were smart, you were kind and you were beautiful.

You easily took the popular seat. Everyone liked you.

I admired you, to be honest. You could have taken the mean route and still had yourgush of followers. People would have still treated you like a goddess anyway.Everyone looked at you the same way— you were powerful, but easily breakable.And they defended you every way they could. You could have been mean. And youknew your choices. Mean or nice, you would have still ruled over the freshmen. Anda few sophomores.

But, the thing is, you didn't.

There were absolutely no rumors about you, Moon—you were so kind, everyoneadmired you. They wanted to be like you. You were innocent, so, so innocent.

Sometimes you were too innocent. You never realized how many people liked you.People looked up to you, and you didn't even know it. Boys loved you—QibliCrabtree, Winter Dickinson, Umber Breckenridge...

People around you changed.

Carnelian Shoult, Kestrel's sidekick bully, slowly became the kind, gentle person sheis today. Turtle Painter, the quiet boy that wrote stories on his math notebook,decided to publish them. You helped him become a world-famous author. Even gothim a girlfriend for a bonus, your friend from your old school named KinkajouStevens.

And you decided to become my friend.

Why me? No idea. But when you sat at my lunch table, with your usual shy smile,there was no going back. Even though you had lots of friends, you seemed a littledistant. Mysterious. Like a secret.

A little lonely.

You just came to our lunch table every day. Sat, and ate, and talked. Even at thefirst day, you belonged. You were the final piece in everything.

It all started with a question: "Is Deathbringer Glory's boyfriend?"

I usually just sat at the lunch table and took a few bites out of my sandwich andleft. I didn't go to the library anymore. I really wanted to leave, but when Tsunamireplied, "Heck, yes" with a mischievous gleam in her eyes, I had to argue.

"No, he isn't." I quickly snapped. I was very sensitive at the time. I didn't want anybetrayal, ever again. I had a few mood swings sometimes. Actually, change that to many mood swings.

Deathbringer remembered the question—how Glory seemed so mad at the idea. Hehad been a little hurt and disappointed, but the furious blush on her face had beenpriceless.

"Maybe, but he sure heck wishes he is," Tsunami went on. You, Moon—I have to giveyou credit. You just seemed faintly amused. It was almost as if you liked ourdramatic lunch table.

We just started arguing. Deathbringer Black teased me, and I bet I had a horribleblush on my face.

You did, he thought.The thought brought a small hint of smile to his lips.

The truth was...I wished we were. But we never got the chance, I guess.

"At least I'm not like you guys, all mooning over your little couples," I stated, sinceI was about to do anything to get the subject off of me.

It backfired a little though. "I don't have a boyfriend," Sunny pointed out.

I always were a little lonely. Starflight had Fatespeaker Cole, which he had met inthe eye hospital when he went blind. She had jet-black hair and black eyes, so youcan't really blame her that she wore black every single day. She was crazyenthusiastic. Fatespeaker helped him get through his pain. They were completeopposites, but at least they liked each other.

Tsunami had Riptide. He had calmed down a little, turned a little less stupid. Alittle more human. Changed his group of friends.

Was it bad that I felt jealous he had done all that just for Tsunami?

It made me feel painful whenever I saw them together. I was happy for Tsunami,of course, but I couldn't help the little ache and feeling of betrayal.

Everyone swooned over Clay. He was the sweet, cute guy from the Ag class. He was never really alone.

You were like a light in my darkness. I finally had someone to care for. So what if itwasn't romantic? You were like my little sister, the kin I never got to have.

But we did get a conversation going. After a day or two, we knew each other prettywell.

Suddenly, we were friends.

We had sleepovers. We shared secrets. You just...belonged. You were like the glueof our little group. Everyone enjoyed having you around. You lighted everything up.You always knew what to say. You never ran out of things to talk.

I felt less depressed and suicidal. I felt...

...happy.

You were so—so imperfect, and therefore perfect. You were.. Pure. Innocent.Loving and kind and brave and loyal. Faultless.

You reminded me of a fawn. Beautiful and gentle. You knew who you were. Youdidn't see things like other people did. You saw things others didn't. Youunderstood everyone. You never judged.

You were thrilled in anything and everything we ever mentioned to you. You didn'tthink yourself as better than anyone else.

You were so innocent, so beautiful.

A lot of people probably has this question: then why are you in my tapes?

Moon, you did nothing wrong to me. You did absolutely nothing bad to anyone in yourlife. You were born innocent, and you died innocent.

All you did was die.

I heard many stories. A terrible fire were lit in your house, on purpose or accident.There are always many sides to a story.

The story I heard was that-- it was pretty big. Burned your house to the ground.As smoke filled your house, and fire was hungry for blood, they say screamed.

I can't even imagine a person like you scream.

They say you were crying. You led everyone out, coughing. Everyone was bleedingand had burns. You had the most, they said.

The thing is, you could have been safe.

But, as the story goes, your dog, Bandit, was trapped in your room. Barking likecrazy, probably.

Being the innocent person you are, Moon, you went back for him.

Your family tried to stop you, but you won't be stopped. You just stepped into theflaming house without a second thought.

Somehow, you got your dog from your room. You probably had bad burns. Yourmother said, over and over again, that you were bleeding.

And the story I heard ends this way—you were coughing. Coughing blood.

You stopped at the door and fell to your knees.

That's what your mother says, Moon. They say you threw the dog, and fell on theflaming floor with a thud.

You made a bed in a fire, and you closed your eyes.

You never opened them ever again.

Poof, just like that. Gone.

You rebuilt me, Moon. You were God's gift to me. A sign of mercy.

And who knows? I might not have killed myself if you were still here today. Maybeyou would have made my life better.

Moon, I miss you.

When I heard you died, a knife drove into my heart.

Moon... I loved you. You were like the family I didn't get to have. I loved you like alittle sister, and I crippled down when you left me.

I never recovered.

If they stopped there...

You know the drill, don't you?

But, when I had fell down to my knees, other people stabbed me and taunted meand hated me until I fell down.

Until I did...

...this...

Moon, I hope you are in Heaven, or wherever people who did good things in theirlife goes to when they die.

Because, I won't meet you there.

Did you know what your father said at the interview?

He said, when you were dying, you seemed like you were sleeping.Your face was unbelievably pale, he said. Like a goddess. He said that you seemed like you belonged.

Like... your soul was the fire. He said... You were just smiling as life kissed you goodbye. You seemed warm and safe.

Crazy, isn't it?

And want to hear another thing he said?

He said your hair was on fire.


	11. 10 The Queen

Tape 4, Side A

I have to tell you so many things. So many things to ask and share. I want to laugh and giggle while I tell you. Like a normal girl, if you can imagine that.

But, most of all, I have to thank you.

Thank you, Fierceteeth, for ruining the best night of my life.

"Welcome to your tape, Fierceteeth Absher"

"Deathbringer, you have to accept this: Glory died a month ago," Sunny said, her hand slapping the table. Her cheeks were flushed and her green eyes were filled with tears. "She died, Deathy. Listening to the tapes is one thing. Killing yourself with burden is another."

"I'm not killing myself with burden. " Deathbringer said matter-of-factly and tried to flash her a smile, but failed dramatically. "I'm-" He tried to search for the right word. "-fine."

"Yeah?" Sunny stared at him straight in the eye, her other hand clenched into a fist. "You're skipping school. You're avoiding everyone and you're refusing help."

"I don't need help, Sunny." He eyed her angry face warily, running his pale, long fingers through his hair. "I'm not going to kill myself anytime soon." His throat worked. "Like somebody."

Sunny stared at him, her innocent face filled with dread. "You're not okay, Deathbringer. You're not okay, and that's not okay. No, it's horrible." She inhaled deeply, closing her eyes and opening them again. " it's horrible, Deathbringer. Horrible to see the friends around you die. " She pointed at his heart. "Emotionally and physically. Glory. Tsunami. Starflight. Fatespeaker. Now you."

He leaned back on his chair lazily. "Great speech, Sunny, but you don't give medicine for a person that is perfectly fine."

"Stop!" Sunny let out a sob and fell down the floor in her knees, her face covered with tears. She started beating the floor with her hands, like the floor was the one who was causing all this. "Deathbringer, please stop! Stop weighing everything down on yourself. None of it was your fault. None of this is your fault. And, you know what, Black? Glory's not coming back. She's dead!"

He reached out but grasped nothing."Sunny..."

"She died, and it's too late. You can't just go around like this. Accept it, Deathbringer. " Sunny looked up at him, not even bothering to wipe away her tears. It twisted his heart. "We're all too late.

"Even you."

Deathbringer avoided her eyes, telling himself, it's not true. We're not too late. It's not true!

But deep in his heart, he knew it was truth.

The cruel, merciless truth.

"I'm almost done. I'll go through them as quick as possible. Is that what you want?"

Sunny sniffed and stood up, wiping her tears. "Yes. And tomorrow, come to school."

"There's no point," he said, standing up.

"There's never a point." Sunny glared at him. "Chaos, Deathbringer. Chaos. One small thing unbalanced, and everything changes. Everything changes their position. Everything shifts. Nothing stays the same." She paused. "That doesn't mean it's a bad change. "

"Wise words, my friend."

Sunny came up to him and hugged him, digging her face into his chest. "Everyone misses you, Deathy. And everyone's devastated. About...her."

Anger rose in his chest, an uncontrollable fire and hunger and exhaustion and desperation mixed altogether. Anger, so much anger.

It was better to be angry. Better than to face the truth. Better than blaming himself for anything that had happened. Better than admitting he was selfish to feel angry. Better than saying he had caused Glory's death. Better than admitting he won't see her anymore. Her beautiful smile, her green eyes. No more Quickstrike. He wanted to, had to, blame someone else. Oh, please someone else. Better to be angry than weighed with burden. For her. For Quickstrike. For himself.

"Nobody even knew her. They don't have the right to be devastated," he spat angrily.

"People needs to be sad sometimes." Sunny pushed away, sighing. " They knew her, Deathbringer. Maybe not well, like you did, but they still knew her. "

"Still..." His argument faded away. He knew it was wrong. He just wasn't brave enough to admit it.

He was a coward.

He watched blankly as Sunny walked to the door, grabbing her keys in the process. She slowly reached out to the doorknob and was about to turn it when she abruptly stopped. She slowly looked back, her shoulders hauled up.

"What tape are you on?" She asked softly, her eyes wide.

He felt a small chill. "The seventh."

What was the small light in Sunny's eyes? Relief? Fear? It disappeared before he could identify it. But it made him uncomfortable, afraid.

"I want to tell you, Deathy," She said, tilting her head, " if you have an opportunity... take it. "

She was out of the room before he could reply, or ask what she meant, shutting the door swiftly behind her.

It was Christmas.

Beautiful winter. I liked winter. The snow, the singing, the weird, cheerful aura in the air as we got nearer to Christmas. The little kids shouting with delight. The presents.

And I had one thing to be excited about- the Christmas Dance.

Every Christmas at the dance, you could dress up. As a queen or a king. You needed a date, and if you both signed up and got chosen, you got to get the honor. The respect. The flowers and the cheers, the admiration.

I have to admit, I was fairly excited. I even got a dress, a beautiful, green one. It swirled this way and that, got little glitter here and there. It was, at least it felt like, made for me.

I felt special.

When I tried it on, I looked beautiful. Flawless. My green eyes matched the dress, and my shoes clicked when I walked. My blonde hair was on a tight bun, and my cheeks were flushed.

Small hints of makeup covered my face.

"Sit up straighter," Tsunami commented. " Wow, Glory. You're really going to win this thing. "

When I told Tsunami about it, she was surprisingly supportive. Even buying me a necklace to go with the dress. Paying a part of the dress when I ran out of the money.

I thought it was a big deal. And, truth to be said, it was. It was for me. A chance to spark, prove everyone wrong. Chance to be in the spotlight.

The only thing I lacked was a date, but Deathbringer volunteered, although it was costly. He teased me all the time, taunting me. Although I did like the way his eyes sparkled when he did that.

But, at that time, it was worth it.

I signed up before first period, my heart fluttering.

It was almost ruined, though, when you and your friends came up to me, with your little black leather jackets and dark mascara and tattoos. You, Fierceteeth, have always scared me, to be honest. You were the one girl that didn't like to be messed around.

Your black eyes pierced through me as you came closer. Your breath was heavy with tabbacco, and I took a step back, clutching my books to my chest.

"Aw, look at her! She's signing up for the dance! Trying to be the queen, are you, Bright?" You sneered. "Nobody with brains will vote for a fat, ugly kid like you! "

You know what? If shattered my heart. Crumpled my excitement.

"Look at your clothes," you said, inspecting me. Your lips were curled into a snarl. "Look at your dirty, mousy hair and your shirt height. You barely reached puberty, that's for sure!" You and your friends laughed. "I hope you wear high heels, short girl!"

My cheeks burned.

"Slut!" You breathed, your eyes sparkling. You were enjoying every moment of this. "I wonder what boys see in you? Riptide Stanford, Hailstorm Dickinson, and now Deathbringer Black!" you squealed with glee. "All you care about is boys!"

"Shut up," I whispered. But it made me question myself. I can't win. The odds are against me. So many people are better than me. What makes me think I'll win? What if the rumors were true? There were some truth behind your words, Fierceteeth. Nobody likes me. I was short. I was fat, and I was full of scratches and scars. I was so...pathetic.

Besides, it brought me painful memories. Riptide. Hailstorm. Magnificent. Scarlet. Et cetera.

"I hope you don't have big hopes, sweetheart," you mocked me triumphantly. " I'm betting on...hm...Scarlet Burn this year. " You have me a wolfish grin. "Who is...let's see. Thinner, prettier, taller, better, and sweeter."

I get it, Fierceteeth. You taunted people everyday. You didn't give it much thought.

But I ask you: was that necessary? Stomping on a girl's confidence? What did I ever do to you, Fierceteeth?

Do you even think about how many people you have hurt? Words mean a lot nowadays. Sometimes, words mark people worse than you can ever do to someone physically. They remember.

When they remember, they want to kill themselves.

Not me. I'm not talking about me, dear. Just think about other people. Try to prevent people from becoming like...me.

Please.

Anyway, I went out of the office bursting with tears. I didn't eat for a few days. I put way more makeup than necessary. Everything seemed bad. My hair, my dress. My hair was ugly, and my dress was too cheap and sparkly. My shoes. Suddenly, they made too much noise. Even the necklace Tsunami have me seemed a little out of place.

Everything seemed pathetic.

But the dance came. I found myself going into the gym, my arms linked with Deathbringer's. We danced, his hands on my waist and my arm around his neck.

That was the best night of my life.

I leaned on him, my eyes closed. Feeling safe. Feeling happy. For the first time feeling satisfied.

"You look pretty," he said to me with a lazy grin. He slowly led me to the center, never leaving his eyes off me.

Suddenly, he bent down and kissed me.

Then he gave me a panicked, cute smile and sheepishly let me go, staring at the floor.

"Um...I better go," he stammered. Before I could reply, he disappeared into the crowd. I bet I was blushing. bad.

I'm not trying to bore you with the details- but you need to realize, it was the best thing that happened to me in weeks. Months. Maybe even years.

I decided to get a drink. To cool myself down. Rethink. Try to wipe the stupid smile off my face.

I wish I hadn't.

Because you were there. With a long, black dress, your face pale, your red lips half-curled into a cruel smile. Your head tilted, your cheekbones high and your fingernails painted black.

Like a piece of artwork. A carving. A beautiful, flawless carving.

A carving better than me.

When you saw me, and your eyes widened. But you quickly calmed down, your eyes inspecting me for any weaknesses. Like you always did. To everyone.

"Hey, depressed freak," you snarled, your eyes as piercing as a wolf's howl. " Trying to be the Queen? C'mon. Even if you win, nobody's going to cheer for you." Your eyes sparkled dangerously. "You're so pathetic."

Pathetic.

Stupid.

Fat.

Ugly.

Short.

Flat-chested.

The words beat me down. Worse than blood, worse than pain.

Do you remember what you said next?

Glory paused, and laughed softly. A laugh mixed with tears. A forced laugh with no meaning behind it. An empty laugh.

She continued a few moments later: you told me to kill myself.

And I did. Happy, Fierceteeth?

I just started at you, my mouth slightly open, my eyes filling with tears. I fled the scene. I was about to walk out of the gym whan the principal came up the stage to announce the winners.

"The winners and the King and Queen of Christmas is about to be announced!" People cheered. They stopped dancing to watch.

"Deathbringer Black and Glory Bright!"

I gasped. As I stepped toward the stage, my pain flooded back.

Even if you win, nobody's going to cheer for you.

You're...pathetic.

The word echoed in my head: pathetic, pathetic, pathetic.

A sob escaped my lips, and I covered my mouth. I was about to walk up, at least see Deathbringer on the stage, when you came up.

"There's been a mistake," you said. " I was with Deathbringer, not Glory. "

Silence.

I stared. Waiting for someone to correct her.

Nobody did.

Deathbringer caught my eye, and opened his mouth say something,but I ran out.

Ran out from everything. Crying. Swearing.

And that's how, if you look into the yearbook, you see Deathbringer crowned King. He's dressed up. He looks nice. He's not smiling, but nobody noticed. And if nobody notices, that's okay. At least, that's what I've been told.

I'm not with him, though.

You are, Fierceteeth.

Thank you...thank you so much, Fierceteeth Absher, for ruining the best day of my life.

I will do as you asked: I'll go kill myself.

Greatness called him as he shakily flipped the tape. He answered, trying to calm his racing heart.

"Hey, Deathbringer."

"H-hello."

"Are you okay?" She sounded worried. "You seem shaken."

"Yeah, I'm fine," he lied. His hands were shaking and he could barely keep from dropping the phone.

She inhaled deeply. "Um, I wanted to ask you something. Wanna go to the movies together?" Her voice lingered at the last word. "As, you know."

"I don't get you."

"Geez! You know..." Her voice faded off.

He frowned impatiently. He didn't get it, and he didn't have time to waste, either. "I really don't," he replied blankly.

"As...friends. I mean, more than friends," she stammered. Which was awkward since she couldn't remember Greatness ever stammering and voicing her thoughts in a straightforward way.

He didn't reply.

"Deathbringer?" She said nervously. "You there? Yes or no?"

He could remember Sunny telling him, with her wide green eyes: I want to tell you, Deathy, if you have an opportunity, take it.

"Nevermind. If you refuse, I get it-"

She died, and it's too late. You can't just go around like this. Accept it, Deathbringer. We're all too late. Even you.

He closed his eyes briefly, and opened them again.

"Yes."


	12. 11 Alone

He went to school the next day.

It was same as usual- bullies cornering the weak kids and stealing their lunch money, smart geeks with their faces pressed on books, the jocks passing a football around the crowded hallway and flirting with cheerleaders.

The whispers. The stares. The lack of voices when he entered the room.

A few months ago, he was Deathbringer Black. The annoying guy with a mischievous smile. The one that flirted with everyone, the one that was impossibly tall and good at basketball. Some random guy that made the varsity team out of sheer luck and quit the next day.

Once. Long ago.

The Deathbringer Black he used to be... was a no more.

The crowd seemed to watch him, avoiding his gaze but staring at him blindly when they thought he wasn't looking. Some pointed, some shouted right at him.

His friend committed suicide, they whispered. His mother died, and he keeps going around the hallway with his backpack and headphones. I bet he's depressed, too.

He clenched his fists. He had the list, right in his palm. They were red by gripping it for too long and too hard, but he was too numb, too broken, to even care.

Did anything even matter anymore?

He only came to his stupid school for one reason and one reason only.

To know the other side.

After a few embarrassing questions and stares, he caught her in the hallway: the startling, I-know-your-secrets eyes. The mysterious smile. The horrifying anxiety at her next post everyone felt.

She saw him, too. Maybe it was the way he looked at her, or maybe the headphones, or the tape he was gripping in his hand. Or the list.

Her eyes widened immediately, and her lips made a perfect O, her chest raising and falling in panic. Her emotionless, merciless expression was replaced by overwhelming anxiety.

She knew everyone's secrets.

Yet, he knew hers.

She didn't try to avoid him. Instead, she let him approach her. She kept her eyes down on the ground, her lips tightly pressed together, and flinched when he put a hand on her arm.

His voice was heavy as he spoke:

"Magnificent."

You were fire.

You were flames.

You were sparks.

Beautiful, frightening, impossible to understand. You were a carving. You were a goddess. You were a structure of perfection.

I can't even imagine competing with you. Yet, we had eyes for the same boy.

"Welcome to you tape, Peril Goldenberg"

Her voice was shaking. "What do you want?" She clenched her fists at her sides.

"I heard your story. Your tape, I mean," he said. He bit his lip. This was harder than he thought it to be.

She raised a perfect eyebrow. "So what?" She seemed calm and collected, but her wide eyes told a different story.

"I want to know why." People passed them without a glance. "I want to know why you did that to her, Magnificent."

Magnificent pulled away from him, trembling like his touch burned. Her eyes were full of panic and despair, and her cool expression ripped apart. "I thought he made sure you didn't get the tapes."

Deathbringer narrowed his eyes immediately. "Who?"

She didn't hear him. She gripped her hair, giving out a little scream. "He promised!" She shrieked. "My secrets...after all I did for my reputation!" She tried to run away, but he grabbed her wrist.

"Don't go!" He shouted.

When she turned, she was crying. which startled him. She looked so weak and vulnerable. "She did all this!" She sobbed. " Glory. Glory Bright! That stupid girl that just want attention...She ruined my life!"

He felt anger rise in his chest. "You ruined her life first," he spat.

His words seemed to do the magic. Magnificent stopped struggling, like all energy was gone from her. She just slumped, tripping against her own legs. Deathbringer let her go, but she didn't run, like he expected. With a few deep breaths, she maintained her balance.

She stared at him. "I'm sorry," she whispered. It surprised him. Magnificent never apologized. That was a rule. "If she was alive, I would tell her I am sorry. " She covered her face with her hands. Crying is a sign of weakness. "I'm so, so sorry..."

"It's too late, " he said roughly. He didn't want to forgive her. He didn't want to forgive anyone. They didn't deserve forgiveness.

She was gone. Glory, his Glory. She was gone.

Gone...

But I did something, too. It's too late. Everything's too late.

Magnificent gripped his arms, her expression a little crazed. "I'm sorry. For using weakness against her. I'm sorry." She pulled back. "Didn't you love her? Didn't everyone love her?" Tears clouded her eyes. " I was jealous. But I regret it now. I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I would say it a thousand times if I could. "

Then she turned and ran. Away from him.

And he let her go.

He slipped into his second period Language class, and just started on the tapes again. His mind was numb and crowded, and his eyes closed as he leaned his head back against the chair, letting Glory's voice soothe his tortured mind.

It was a normal day. Deathbringer and I had Algebra first period, so we chatted. We weren't officially dating, but after the kids at the dance, it felt weird talking to him. My pulse quickened, and my cheeks reddened. It felt different.

It felt ...nice.

He probably didn't notice. He probably flirted with a thousand girls a day. I was just another girl he flirted recklessly with.

Anyway, as we were heading out of first period, you ran onto him. The Peril Goldenberg, the cold, beautiful girl in school. It made me uncomfortable. Your flaming red hair always made me feel out of place, and I never felt like I was enough when I was next to you. Pretty enough. Skinny enough. Popular enough.

I'm sure all girls did, honey. And still do.

But the way you looked at Deathbringer, as he helped you pick your things- it made me feel truly sick. The way your smile lingered on your face as you thanked him. The way you so naturally flirted with him, curling a lock of hair with your finger, barring your thick eyelashes. The hint of a smile from the blood-red lips. The perfect, intimidating eyes.

Perfection.

You weren't like other girls. You didn't ask for attention. Begged for boys to notice you. Didn't wear glitter and short skirts and tight jeans.

No. You noticed the boys. And they came to you.

Everyone was drawn to you in some way. Curious about the mysterious girl named Peril.

I guess Deathbringer was, too.

I noticed. I noticed the way you guys laughed in the hallways and how Deathbringer teased you like He used to tease me.

He felt his heart drop. Quickstrike, his mother, used to work for the Goldenbergs, cleaning their house and cooking their food. He had tried extra hard to impress Peril to give his mother's budget a boost. They've been friends since they were little, but after Peril was told to stay away from him, they drifted away.

It was nice to have his friend back again.

Besides, Peril liked Clay. Although she never asked him because of her reputation, she confessed to Deathbringer that she had liked him ever since kindergarten. Like she was drawn to him somehow.

He raised his hand. When Mr. Dune nodded to him, he asked to use the restroom. Without waiting for an answer, he ran out to the hallway, clenching his fists.

I guess I just sort of gave up after that. Glory paused. I knew I wasn't a match for you. You're the girl that will grow up to be a celebrity someday.

Me? If anyone even remembers, I would be the girl who committed suicide.

Glory laughed. I kept my distance with Deathbringer and my friends. I was alone all the time, and I screamed at everyone that tried to talk to me. I refused to communicate. I was failing classes. I didn't have any friends. I messed up in class, and people laughed at me.

My friends just watched. Emotionless.

It was my fault I was alone, yet I blamed on everyone else. I blamed on you, even.

His feet traveled to Glory's locker almost instinctively. His gaze swept over it- it was covered with notes and cards.

We miss you.

I hope you went to Heaven.

God bless you, Glory.

Why did you have to die?

I'm sorry that you died.

But the more that caught his attention was signed by Scarlet Burn herself:

Forgive me.

He felt his heart twist. Forgive me, Glory, he wanted to cry out. Please.

Glory continued on.

Every time I saw you on the hallways with Deathbringer, every time I saw you give him the lingering smile that was more beautiful than mine, every time you laced your fingers with his or whispered something in his ear that made him smile in amusement...

It broke me.

It shattered me.

It killed me.

Glory broke out into a sob.

I was scared, Peril. I was scared that I lost my friends all over again. I lashed out. I told myself I didn't need anyone. I told myself I can do this. I can move on. Yet, I cried and starved myself when I saw I was completely alone.

Alone.

Such a cruel word. Don't you agree, dear Peril? You probably haven't been alone before. You probably haven't felt the despair, the fear, the betrayal.

The emptiness. The desperate feeling of someone, something needing you, and finding out nobody does.

That's how depression starts, Peril.

You probably never felt it. You're always surrounded by everyone. Admired by your beauty, by your rich family, by your reputation.

You know what? You're never alone.

I was. I still am. I will always be.

You can't be depressed when you have people who supports you. Who loves you.

No, you are alone. Completely, absolutely alone. You against the world. Nothing else.

You always lose.

Thank you, Peril Goldenberg. Thank you for being my fire, my protection, my idol. Thank you for taking my friends.

Thank you burning me down.

Thank you for breaking me.

Thank you for killing me, Peril.


	13. 12 Fear

How would you describe fear?

The last time I felt fear...

It killed me.

"Welcome to your tape, Darkstalker Smith"

"Do you visit her grave?"

Deathbringer chewed his food before turning. Tsunami stared at the person behind him in disbelief, and silence overwhelmed the lunch table. The only person that didn't seem to mind was Clay.

Kestrel.

"I do," he replied blankly.

Kestrel scowled, but then, it was probably her normal face. "I need you to say something to her."

When Deathbringer looked at his friends, they all seemed surprised. "What can you possibly say to her?" He said coolly.

Kestrel flinched. "A lot of things." She glared at him, her cheeks red with embarrassment.

He leaned forward in interest. "Really? Tell me one."

"Tell her I'm sorry, " She said bravely, meeting his eyes with determination. For a moment, he admired her for her courage. "Tell her I'm never going to punch anyone ever again. Never." She inhaled deeply. "Tell her she made a good character in the play. Tell her...Tell her I miss her." She then pressed her lips together and turned away without waiting for an answer.

He replied too late: "I will."

Deathbringer felt his heart thump loudly. The tapes are changing everything.

The next in line was Kestrel's sister, Peril Goldenberg.

The proud, rich Goldenberg sisters. Powerful people in the school. One strikingly beautiful, one extremely powerful. And they were all overlooking their reputation for one girl.

For Glory Bright.

The girl who committed suicide.

Peril gave Deathbringer a small smile. She stared at Riptide's sandwich, wetting her lips. Then she bowed her head and stared at her shoes, looking uncomfortable. "I want to say something to someone in this table."

Tsunami seemed to bristle next to him, but he motioned her to calm down. Sunny raised a calm eyebrow.

"Go ahead," he said softly.

Peril didn't reply for a long time. Then she clenched her fists. "Clay, I have something to say to you. Actually, I want to thank you. Thanks for standing up for me when I made the big fire in kindergarten. Thanks for talking to me when nobody else did."

Deathbringer blinked, surprised. He didn't even remember what happened in kindergarten. That seemed centuries ago.

"I...I admire you a lot," Peril stammered. " you're nice, and all. "

Clay stared at her blankly, he mouth open but no sound coming out.

Peril breathed in deeply.

"I like you, Clay."

I wanted to prove to Deathbringer, to my friends, that I could get along fine without them.

Stupid? Heck, yes. Predictable? Yes.

So when you, Darkstalker Smith, asked me out, I said yes.

You were quite handsome. Sharp features. Elegant eyes. Amused smile. Neat black hair.

That time, I didn't know you had eyes on my money and my money only.

That time, I didn't even imagine you knew about my parents. I never told anyone, not even my friends.

My parents were business owners. Quite rich. But the money didn't roll in until I was eighteen. That was the rule.

Probably a few million dollars, or more. I didn't remember my parents well. I wish I could.

I guess my tongue slipped when I was near you. You had that sort of effect on people, I guess. You soothed them until they told you what you wanted to know. Needed to know.

I didn't think about your background much. I knew your father had died years ago.

Hm, I wonder why.

Your sister was mentally ill. Everyone knew that. Your mother abandoned both of you when you were little kids. Your ex-girlfriend Clearsight Everfrost had moved away to a different country.

I guess I just assumed you understood me better than anyone else. We were both a wreck. Both of us had no parents. We had issues with life.

In a few months, it felt natural. Natural to share secrets with you. To love you. To kiss you. To let you control me and do anything you wanted to me.

I give you credit, Darkstalker, you were an amazing listener. You never got tired of my crying. You never got irritated with me. You just sympathized with me, with my life, with my situation.

But, you know. Satan used to be an Angel. Or so I hear.

It never crossed my mind you never told me your secrets. It never crossed my mind how your eyes glimmered dangerously whenever you caught my eye. It never crossed my mind how our kisses became more calculating, more forceful, more horrifying.

Inside the perfect, handsome boy, there was a monster.

One day, you told me to meet you at a club. I tried to refuse, but you wouldn't take no for an answer. You snapped at me. You growled at me. You even threatened me.

I suddenly realized right then and there how powerful you were. How many things you knew about me. How horrifying you have become.

I came. You bought me a drink, and when I didn't drink it, you grabbed me and forced it down my throat. People laughed. They pointed. You laughed too. At how weak I was. How stupid.

You smiled in amusement as I sputtered for air. You forced more alcohol down my throat. I begged you to stop. I was scared.

You didn't stop.

I drank and drank and drank until I puked. My mind was foggy. You just watched me with narrowed, calculating eyes, lighting up a cigarette and breathing the smoke in.

It disgusted me. That moment, everything about you disgusted me. And you still do.

"Stop!" I screamed at you. Anger blinded my common sense. I did what was expected in this sort of situation: I pulled my hand back and slapped you across the face.

You hissed, and anger erupted in your eyes. "Hey, pretty girl," you whispered as you pulled me close to you. It made me sick. You then wrapped your hands around my throat.

You were a murderer. A monster. A killer.

My eyes widened. I was truly afraid. Afraid for my life.

You nodded at the crowd, and a few men came to us and grabbed my arm. I screamed, and they covered my mouth with rough hands.

You sat down, running your hands through your dark hair. "Sign this," you said softly, dangerously. You handed me a paper.

My eyes skipped over the words. My hands trembled as you handed me a pen, smiling.

"You will give your fortune to me," you said calmly, like we were discussing the weather. "It's fairly simple. You sign it, you live. You don't, we slit your pretty throat. " You flashed me a wolfish grin. "Surely you can spare some coins for your sweetheart?"

I searched my mind for words. In the corner of my eye I saw a knife, and that ended my silent debate.

"I'll s-sign it!" I sobbed. I grabbed the pen and wrote my name on it shakily, hiccuping.

You tapped your finger on the table and snatched the paper away from me. "If anyone asks, you weren't here tonight." You gave me a charming grin and nodded at your friends.

They dragged me out of the club, and I ran away from you. I didn't call the police. I didn't tell anyone.

That made me even more afraid. Afraid you would kill me. Afraid you would spill my secrets.

Fear.

Depression with fear isn't a pretty sight, folks.

Because then you get insane.

I had nightmares. I stayed awake at night, shuddering. Crying. Cutting.

But don't worry, dear Darkstalker.

I never told anyone. and if someone happened to ask me where I was that night, my answer was fairly simple:

"Hell."


	14. 13 Love

Love is a war. Love is a conquest.

Here is what I think of love.

"Welcome to your tape, Deathbringer Black"

It was dark. It was rainy.

It was the day he was going to the movies. With Greatness.

He struggled to button his shirt properly. Always start from the bottom, darling, his mother soothed in his brain. It makes it easier.

The shirt had been thrown to the back of his closet until he found it yesterday. Since the washing machine still mystified him, he had hand-washed it, and it was wrinkled up like crazy. But he didn't know how to straighten it, so he put it on the best he could.

"Mr. Black?" A person called from the doorway. He hurried to open the door, puzzled. I thought I was going to Greatness's house, not vice versa. Panic overwhelmed his brain.

Thankfully, it was a mailman. "I have a package for you. Please sign here."

He signed the paper sloppily and took the small box. "Thank you," he said. It was a small package. When he shut the door and took out his pocket knife to cut it, he saw that it was from Sunny.

It was a brand-new Walkman. He immediately ran to his room, grabbed the tenth tape, and placed it carefully into the Walkman.

Then he pressed Play.

Love is a war.

Deathbringer glanced at his watch. Twenty more minutes until he had to go. He walked to the kitchen and grabbed his piggy bank, where he deposited all his money.

Love is a conquest.

He grabbed it, closing his fingers around the nose of the pig.

Here is what I think of love.

He opened the piggy bank and stuck his hand in, grasping crispy dollar bills. Would fifty dollars be enough?

Welcome to your tape...

He paused to listen.

...Deathbringer Black.

His piggy bank fell to the floor, and his money spilled onto the floor, coins and all. The piggy bank clattered on the floor. His lips trembled and he sank to the ground, closing his eyes shut.

I don't know if you remember. You probably don't.

But I do.

Remember the party? It was at a kid's house. I don't remember his name, but it sure was an exciting party.

The music. The lights. The pool. The laughter.

Why did I go there? I have no idea. Maybe I just wanted to be with people. Not in my lonely apartment. Not in my empty house.

So I sneaked out. Fairly simple when you don't live with anyone. When there's nobody to notice if you're asleep or awake, dead or alive.

Nobody paid any attention to me as I entered the house. Which was exactly what I wanted.

For a while, I just leaned on a wall, listening to the music. Hoping my life would go away. Hoping the whispers would go away.

You can't turn yourself off, though. You can't look into the mirror and not see yourself anymore. You can't stop the voices in your head.

Then you, Deathbringer, came in.

You always sort of came into my life. Like light in the darkness. Like a shimmer of hope that keeps people going. Like good in bad.

Deathbringer.

You kept me going. After Peril and Darkstalker, yeah, we drifted off. But I still had hope in you. You were one of the few people that didn't betray me.

Yet.

The thing is, I loved you. I still do. Yeah, it might be too late to say that. Especially when you probably don't return the vibe.

I just wanted to say, Deathbringer, thank you.

When you walked in, I caught your eye. You came to me, and I went to you. Putting the past behind us in that moment. Walking closer and closer to each other.

Like a magnet.

My eyes never left yours, and you're never left mine.

I don't know what happened. I just walked up to you, and you gave me a small smile. And I threw my arms around you.

It felt beautiful, Deathbringer. To feel your heartbeat against mine. To feel the tingle of your breath against my neck. To breathe in your scent, to feel your arms around my waist.

It felt magical.

He stood up from the floor, and clenched his fists. He didn't bother to wipe his tears off.

He just ran out of his apartment. Into the sidewalk, into the rain. Still he kept going. Still he listened.

Right then, it felt like my happily ever after.

He broke into a run. Water splashed at his feet, but he didn't care.

He didn't care at all.

You gave me a grin, and grabbed my wrist. You pulled me into a room. My heart was thumping like crazy.

"Glory?" You said. It was beautiful, the way you said my name. Like it was the only name in the whole wide world.

That moment, you were mine, Deathbringer Black.

"Yes?" I murmured. My hands found your chest. I closed my eyes, and all the voices were gone, to be replaced by happiness.

" You look beautiful tonight. "

He was gasping. I meant it, he wanted to say. To her. I meant every single word I said that night.

But she wasn't there. She would never be in his arms again. He would never feel complete again.

Then you grabbed me by the waist and pulled me into a kiss. It was gentle, a kiss I had longed for a long time.

A gentle kiss. A tender kiss. A kiss you meant.

He was almost there.

You pushed me against the door, and we were one. You were mine, and I was yours. My cheeks felt hot. My lips couldn't get enough of you. My fingers ran through your smooth hair.

You, Deathbringer, made my life complete. You made me life worth it. You made my life beautiful.

Then...

The red door. The giant mansion. The house he had visited when he was a child.

He rang the doorbell.

Then I remembered.

I remembered Riptide. I remembered Hailstorm. I remembered Darkstalker.

I remembered Kestrel. I remembered Scarlet. I remembered Magnificent.

I remembered the pain. The horror. The betrayal.

A woman answered him. She seemed surprised, but she asked him what he needed, and he replied that he was here to see Greatness.

"Miss!" The servant called. " A young man is waiting for you. Outside. "

"Patricia, what are you talking about?" Footsteps neared the door. the click click click of heels. "Deathbringer is supposed to come in ten—"

She abruptly stopped and her eyes widened as she saw how wet and drenched he was.

Not exactly a romantic sight.

"Deathbringer?" She said softly. She motioned for the servant to back off, and she went out of the hallway with a bowed head.

" Greatness. " His voice sounded hoarse. She was on a red dress, and had a golden, dangling earring on both ears. Her eyes showed a hint of mascara, and her pale skin seemed a little paler than usual.

"What— what happened?"

He didn't reply. He just pulled her to him and kissed her.

She didn't feel the same. She didn't draw him. She didn't make him plete. She was beautiful, and she was kind.

But she wasn't Glory.

Would never be Glory.

Would never take Glory's place.

He pulled away. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes sparkled, but he shook his head.

"Greatness," he whispered. He let his arms fall to his sides, letting her go. " I'm sorry. But it doesn't feel the same."

The green eyes. The smile. The laughter. The grace. The strength. The love.

"What do you mean?" Greatness slowly frowned.

"You and I aren't mean for each other, Greatness," he said, backing away. " I'm sorry. But I don't love you. And I can never love you. " Pain filled his heart. "I only love one person in the world."

Jealousy covered Greatness's eyes. "Who?"

"I'm sorry," he repeated lamely.

Greatness stepped closer to him, and he couldn't escape her eyes anymore. "Deathbringer, I have to know. Who is it?"

He smiled thinly, and backed out of the house into the raining street.

"She's dead."

I pushed you away. I saw the confusion in your eyes, the panic.

"Glory?" You asked.

I screamed. I didn't want to feel the pain again— the agony—

The agony of being used, of loving someone that doesn't love you back. The pain of feeling the betrayal. Feeling your emotions being crushed, shattered.

You tried to speak, but I screamed louder. "Get away from me!"

" Glory... "

I slapped your hand away. I couldn't. I couldn't stand to feel it again.

I was a coward, Deathbringer.

I pushed you away, harder. The hurt was clear in your beautiful black eyes. You slowly backed away, opening your mouth but not speaking.

"Go away!" I screeched. The voices came back. The fear came back. The pain came back.

You started at me for a long moment and ran out of the room. As I watched you go, I felt my heart drop.

I'm sorry, Deathbringer.

I'm sorry for not trying hard enough. I'm sorry for rejecting you when, really, I was rejecting myself.

Deathbringer walked in the rain, tears blinding his eyes. "I'm sorry for not trying harder, Glory, " he said aloud. "I'm sorry. For watching as you got hurt. For not doing anything."

I'm sorry.

"I'm sorry."

The truth is, Deathbringer, you're not part of the tapes. You were relatable I had that was snatched away.

Mistakes.

I made a lot of mistakes in my short life, but this was, and will forever be, my biggest one.

Why are you here, then, you may ask. why did I have to hear to all this when I didn't do anything?

Fairly simple: I wanted to explain to you, Deathbringer.

Maybe you don't care.

Maybe you never will.

But I'll never forget the night we had. At the party.

Thank you.

Thank you for lighting up my dark little world.

When I screamed at you, I guess I was hoping for you to understand. To make me feel better again. To light up my world again. To embrace me and whisper in my ear...

You didn't.

Is it too much to ask? Maybe it's selfish of me.

I guess I'll never know your answer, Deathbringer Black.

I know if you could, you would bring me back. I know you would smile your amazing grin and give me a thumbs-up, brightening my entire world.

Too late.

Deathbringer, I hope you find someone. Someone that actually deserves A person like you. Someone that loves you.

Someone that won't leave you.

"I'm sorry, Deathbringer Black... "

A few minutes after you were gone, someone came in.

Darkstalker Smith. He was badly drunk, and his words were slurred. But the dangerous glimmer in his eyes...

He grabbed me, and I didn't fight.

He liked that.

You don't want to know what happened behind the closed door. Probably nobody heard my screams. Probably nobody heard my crying. Probably nobody saw my tears.

Love is war.

That night, I was cold. Afraid. Crazed.

I didn't get a blink of sleep. The voices in my head were screaming. Tears blinded my eyes, and the pills seemed to be whispering to me. Soothing my tortured mind.

Love is a conquest.

It was so simple. Just to end it. End everything.

Forever.

Here is what I think of love.

Credits to Marissa Meyer for the amazing quote. She's the author of Lunar Chronicles, which is an amazing series.

To be honest? This chapter made me cry.


	15. 14 Reality

"I thought you liked puzzles," he said, placing a small daisy in her hand. She took it, her eyebrows furrowed as she concentrated on making Firefly the flower crown she wanted. Her hands moved through the tangles of leaves and stems, somehow forming a majestic crown. Deathbringer watched in awe.

"I do," Glory said, pausing enough to give him a dazzling grin. "They calm my tortured mind." She laughed.

Deathbringer stared down at the grass, his lips tilting upward. His gaze found a small, white, fluffy flower, and he reached out and grasped the dandelion, plucking it out gently as possible.

It felt smooth in his hands. He was careful not to drop any seedlings as he handed the flower to Glory.

"Make a wish," he said softly.

Glory's eyes sparkled. She took it and closed her eyes for a long moment and blew it, scattering tens of little seeds ready to bloom. Glory watched until they disappeared from sight.

He placed his arm over her shoulders, and she rested her head on his chest, closing her eyes half-way. He grinned lazily. "Every time a flower dies, new seeds come from it." Glory paused, staring at the lonely, empty dandelion in her hands. "So is death good or bad?"

The question puzzled him. "Huh," he said, frowning. "I guess I never thought about it before."

"Look at dandelions. They die, but their seeds take their place. The world moves on," Glory stated as she narrowed her eyes thoughtfully.

Deathbringer tilted his head. "I guess you're right."

Glory chuckled lightly, tangling her tender, pale hand with his. He felt excitement bloom in his heart, along with care and love. He handled her hand like a glass vase ready to break at the slightest touch. " I'm always right, dear husband." She met his eyes and gave him a small smile to to let him know she was joking. "Let's ask Firefly when she gets back from the woods," she whispered, amusement in her eyes, "She seems to think she knows everything."

Deathbringer laughed. "We have to give her credit, though," he murmured. "She says she's in catalyst class."

"She has lied before," Glory chuckled. Deathbringer stroked her golden hair, bright as a lion's mane in the sunlight.

Glory closed her eyes, and her breathing abruptly slowed. Then the gentle breathing became nothing. No rising of the chest. No inhale or exhale. Her smile became emotionless, and the pale blush on her cheeks disappeared.

"Glory?" He said, panicked. He gripped her hand tighter. It seemed cold and paler than usual.

Her beautiful green eyes didn't open, and all she did was smile and reply:

"You're full of surprises, Deathbringer Black."

Deathbringer jolted awake.

His alarm clock screeched, and he rubbed his eyes as he hurriedly turned it off.

Crap.

Seven thirty. His school started in five minutes.

He jolted from the bed, putting random clothes that reached his hand first. A dinosaur T-shirt and jeans. Will have to do. He didn't even have time to brush his teeth, and he whirled through his room, shouting.

He ran from his house, got his bicycle, and sped to school, his hair puffy and his eyes half-closed.

"Dude!" Deathbringer didn't stop, but he did turn, and lost his balance. He toppled to the ground, taking the bicycle with him.

He groaned as he got up, his head buzzing.

"You okay?"

He slowly opened his eyes, and saw a boy a few years younger than him, with multi-colored eyes. "No," he huffed. He slowly patted the dirt of his jeans as he straightened. He winced.

The boy nodded at his arm, which was scratch up and bleeding. "You could get infected."

" I've gotten infected before, " Deathbringer snapped. "Get out of my way, I have to get to school."

The boy stared at him, puzzled. "It's six in the morning."

He gaped at him, his eyes widening. "No, it isn't."

"Yeah, it is."

Deathbringer licked his lips. "Show me."

The boy showed him his watch, confused. "Look, you dropped something." He handed his Walkman to him, grinning sheepishly. "I didn't know whether to stop you. Maybe your girlfriend is in the hospital because she was in a car accident and she called for you. Maybe your mom was being held hostage by a creepy killer, and the Walkman is actually a suitcase containing a check for five million dollars. I don't know."

Deathbringer stared at him. "You're a weird kid."

He shrugged. "People tell me that. But I don't know anybody's life except my own, and that's that."

Deathbringer started to grin. "I'm Deathbringer. What's your name?"

"Blue."

"He got the tapes?" He growled.

Fierceteeth bit her lip. "Yeah. Last time I checked, he was on tape ten, but I don't know about now..."

He cursed, clenching his fist. "Stupid idiot. And you let him go all the way to ten? He might get my tape any second now."

" I thought it was in your house, " She stammered.

"It is," he spat. "what did Darkstalker do about it?"

"He's trying to get the twelfth tape away. He sounded pretty angry last time I checked."

"You're such a great help," he muttered, a dangerous glimmer in his eyes. "Why don't you go now?"

" B-but you said you would give Strongwings back if I told you. Remember? "

"My patience is getting thin." He stood up. " go now. "

Fierceteeth straightened, her eyes furious. "No! You promised. I did everything you asked me to do!"

"So what?" he taunted. "What are you going to do about it, little girl?"

Fierceteeth bristled, although fear was overwhelming her. "I'm stronger than you think. And if you're doing anything to him, I'll kill you, I swear I will—"

He grabbed her wrist and pulled her against him, pressing a knife on her throat. She gasped in fear.

"Take her away," he ordered, disgusted. He released her, and his friends placed their hands on her mouth, and dragged her away from him.

It did not stop her from screaming.

Let's see. What are words to describe you?

Intelligent. Beautiful. Obsessed.

Good. Innocent. Hilarious.

What I found about you is that sometimes even the best, kindest people could be bad inside.

Don't worry. I won't tell anyone.

"Welcome to your tape, Cricket Hive"

"I don't think I ever saw you here before."

Blue Silk nodded. "I just moved here from Pantala High. My dad persuaded me to come, but I had to leave my sister behind." Blue frowned, like something bothered him. " I like it here, though. "

He carefully placed the band-aid on Deathbringer's knee, smiling contently. "There."

Deathbringer's gaze traveled over the huge room. "Wow, your family must be rich." He felt a hint of jealousy, comparing this beautiful mansion to his crappy apartment. Blue's room was way bigger than his entire house.

"Yeah," Blue said, shrugging it off. He looked uncomfortable. He put the medicine back into the first-aid kit, closing it tightly. "My dad's the CEO of a company named FlameSilk. It became pretty popular, I guess."

Deathbringer ran his fingers through a stone statue, narrowing his eyes. "Neat."

"I'm about to move to Pyrrhia High. Is that where you go?"

Deathbringer nodded, pressing his lips together. "Somebody died a few months ago in our school."

Blue's eyes widened. "Who? Did you know her?"

He gulped. "Yeah."

Blue stared at him. "Wait. Isn't it Glory Bright?"

He clenched his fists and released them again. The name— the dream...

"Yes," he breathed. " Yeah, it was. "

Blue narrowed his eyes. "Wait. Why do you have a Walkman with you? Do you listen to cassettes?"

Deathbringer stepped away, not meeting his eyes. "Something like that."

Blue looked away. "My friend...my friend knew her. Glory Bright."

He looked up, interested. The small boy was brushing invisible dust from his shirt.

"Who?"

Blue's face contorted into a pained expression. "She goes to Pantala High. She was really smart...She didn't want me to go..."

Blue's voice faded away. He forced a smile. "Anyway. That's sad. But I'm really excited to go to a new school. I have a few friends there. Few friends of my sister's."

He tried to grin. "That's nice. Well, I better get going."

" Yeah... " Blue stared at him. It gave him a chill. This boy was...different. Somehow. "See you in school. But before you go, would you like to eat breakfast? You seemed like you didn't eat any. The way you were going to school." He gave him a teasing grin.

He was about to refuse when his stomach threatened to kill him if he said no. He sheepishly grinned.

"That would be nice."

"Welcome to your tape, Cricket Hive"

The normal.

The sun-kissed, golden hair. The glasses. The intelligent glimmer in your dark brown eyes. The whirl of curiosity in your face. The purse you always carried. The freckles.

We met in a science fair.

I was standing there with my boxes, feeling extremely stupid next to the genius geeks that made refrigerators and robots. I made a door. Out boxes. Stupid? Yes. The school counselor had forced me to make something with my own hands and e refer me to science fair without permission.

I didn't win anything, surprise surprise.

You. You were a different story, dear Cricket.

You made a robot with a personality chip. Everyone just watched in awe as the robot giggled and made sarcastic comments, one after one. You got first place, and got a scholarship to Harvard. People from all around the world offered you jobs.

When a reporter asked you, "How did you feel like when you build this?"

"Well, you know. One bad wiring and I'll set the entire house on fire." You laughed naturally.

"Do you take many risks?"

I'll never forget what you said next:

"I am a scientist. Sometimes risks are necessary."

After all the chaos, I silently slipped away and cut my door into little pieces and stored them safely in the Dumpster.

I whirled in surprise when someone tapped me on the shoulder.

It was you, Cricket.

You have me a smile. "You seem sad."

The thing is, I felt jealous. Jealous that someone I didn't even know was so intelligent and so smart. So beautiful. So carefree. So...unlike me.

"I would think a smart person like you would have a bigger vocabulary," I huffed, banging the Dumpster shut. The smell made me gag.

You seemed surprised. "Words are words. They mean the same to me."

I turned away, fuming. "Stop bothering me, genius."

It hurt. It hurt to see somebody's life so perfect. So simple. So promising.

"I'm not a genius," you replied, tilting your head. "I think differently than others."

" And that makes you a genius. " I crossed my arms over my chest. "Everyone's crowing over you. You should go there, Cricket Hive. You belong there."

You stared at me, speechless. "The thing is, I don't." You have me a defeated grin. " I belong with books. And Blue. "

"Who's Blue?"

" Someone who sees me as who I am, " You said sadly.

I started to feel sorry for you. Sorry for the harsh words. "I'm Glory."

You smiled, and lowered your glasses. Your brown eyes were as warm as the sun. "Nice to meet you, Glory."

We started to call. Sometimes I waited for you at Pantala High, and sometimes you waited for me at Pyrrhia High. We got a few cups of hot chocolate and sat down, eating cinnamon rolls.

We started warming up on each other.

At least that's what I thought.

One day, I wrote a poem. A poem about loneliness. A poem about desolation.

A poem with secret meanings behind it.

"They never will listen

As for my eyes

They tell a tale

That wont compromise

The deep sadness

And as usual

It always turns into madness

I want to go away

So, so far away

So they

Can stay at bay..."

A poem that was better than anything you created. At least to you. You seemed shocked when I read it to you.

You never felt that sort of emotion, I'm guessing. You never felt that way. Somehow, in a twisted way, you thought the piece was the most beautiful thing in the world.

I did too.

You tried to write a few poems by yourself. I saw the wrinkled papers in your pocket. It fell when you were in my car.

I feel awed to say: mine was better.

And you knew it. I knew it.

You weren't used to being beaten. Slowly, you turned aggressive. We stopped talking. You spoke harshly.

And one day, you stole my poem.

How? Only a genius mastermind can figure it out.

I'm not a genius mastermind.

You turned it in to a contest. And, you know what? You got first place. You got on the news.

When they recited the poem, I knew it was mine.

The way You were on TV, smiling smugly, like the entire world was yours, it broke my heart.

I trusted you. I loved you. I thought you were my friend.

I thought of you who would never, ever betray me...

A few weeks later, you came to my house. You seemed triumphant. "Did you like my poem?" You asked me.

That woke something in me. Failure.

"Yes, I did," I said, avoiding your eyes. I was waiting for you. For you to laugh and say you were joking, or burst into tears and beg for my forgiveness.

Anything.

You didn't. You just leaned down and looked at me straight in the eye: "I hope you keep my secret?"

I stared at the ground. "I won't tell anyone."

You left, and I watched you go. My hands were shaking. I never wrote a poem ever again.

And that day, reality declared war on me.

And I lost.

(Sorry for such a long chapter)


	16. 15 Alone Against The World

"Glory?"

Glory turned and stared at him. Her eyes were bloodshot, and she backed away when he came close to her. She was wearing the short dress she was wearing at the party. That was so many months ago. So many things had happened since then.

"Don't cry," he whispered. Glory remained at her place, watching Deathbringer with broken, empty eyes. With caution.

Her shoulders shook with sobs. "But I'll always cry." She backed away, her face in her hands. "Nobody cares, Deathbringer. I cry, I cut, I die. But does anybody truly care? No."

Deathbringer reached out for her, but he failed. He was close, but not close enough.

Never, ever enough.

"I killed you, Glory." Deathbringer wrapped his muscular arms around his stomach. He felt sick. "I killed the only person I've ever loved..."

Glory didn't stop crying, like she didn't hear him. "The pain hits me over and over again, they just keep coming. Help me, Deathbringer. You're my light in darkness. You're always there...just too late."

He blinked slowly, a wave of nausea coming over him. "You should have stayed, Glory. Just for one second...and it would have been over."

"It's too late," Glory repeated, looking up to him with her broken green eyes. She still looked stunning. But her small smile hid the tortured soul inside.

"I-it's never late," he stammered. Don't say that. Anything but that. "We can still do something. Nothing's too late!"

"It is now." Glory looked at him, smiling sadly. "But the thing is, Deathbringer, I accept it. Things balance out in the end— eye for an eye, tooth for tooth. Death comes with life. Pain comes with happiness."

"I rather have you, Glory," he said painfully, wistfully. What was this painful longing he always felt around her? Love? It couldn't be. "I.. I love you."

She walked up to him and laid a hand on his chest. He felt life flowing into him, with joy and happiness. Glory gave him a dazzling grin, and it lighted her entire face.

Glory fluttered her thick eyelashes. "You deserve something better." She gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek. Yet he didn't feel anything. "Something better than me."

"Nothing's better than you."

She laughed and turned, her clothes suddenly turning into a white gown. With a burst of white light, an angelic aura surrounded her. Her blonde hair floated in the air and wings sprouted out of her back, and when she turned her head he saw something so beautiful that it was not human. By it was still Glory. His Glory Bright.

"Don't go," he choked. "Please, Glory, I love you. I need you. Don't leave me."

She gave him a knowing smile, and relief washed over him. But all she said before disappearing was, "Why didn't you say this to me when I was alive?"

I never thought you were capable of stabbing people behind their backs. I can never describe the screaming emotions that came into my mind that day. The day you betrayed me.

Alone. I was...alone. Me against the world.

"Welcome to your tape, Sunny Jennair"

"Where's the thirteenth tape?" Deathbringer said, changing the tapes. "I can't find it."

Deathbringer sighed through the shoebox, frowning. He didn't know why it bothered him so much. But the fact nobody knew who the thirteenth person was and that nobody knew their story made him feel angry. "Ugh, where is it?!"

Peril shrugged, her hands unconsciously twirling a ring on her finger. It was simple, with a red gem in the middle, but she seemed to love it. Probably because it was from Clay. They had started dating only a few days ago, but he could swear they were picking out flowers for their wedding. "Nobody has seen it."

"That's weird," he said, scratching his head. "So who does the twelfth person pass it to?"

"No one, I guess."

"But that's wrong," he insisted. "Everyone has to hear everybody's story. That's the whole point of it."

Peril stared at him like he had two heads. "I get what you're saying. But don't you see? One less tape, one less person. One less person to tell on us. If they want to hide their story, let them. We all would probably have done it if we could."

"That's wrong." He crossed his arms and pouted. "That's so freaking wrong."

She gave him a devilish grin. "It"s called life, baby."

You've always been sweet. Loving. Harmless.

Or so it seemed.

We liked to go to a small frozen yogurt store and talk. Talk about anything and everything. Gossip. Worries. Funny things that happened in the past week. Progress in flirting. Sometimes even money troubles. The point is, you always figured it out. You always listened and solved my problems.

You would always smile at me and say, "What's up, Glory?"

That day, I say down beside you. "Am I late?"

You smiled at me. "Not at all."

Charming, nice Sunny. That's what you were. Or what I thought you were.

I've never told anyone. Never. I quickly ordered a coffee flavored frozen yogurt, just like always. Then I grinned at you. Gave you my fake smile, and you smiled right back.

"What's up, Glory?"

That day, I decided to tell someone. I wanted to. I had to. It was killing me, the secrets. The horrors.

I told myself, I won't be alone. She would listen to me. I won't be alone anymore, we'll be in this together. You always listened to me. You always solved what was bothering me. So, I thought, why not this time?

It turned out it was a whole different story.

I took a deep breath. "Actually, I have to tell you something."

You gave me a worried frown. "What is it, Glory?"

"Remember what I told you yesterday? About Riptide and Scarlet?"

Something flashed over your expression for a moment. Irritation, it seemed. But I thought I saw something wrong.

Turned out I wasn't.

"Sunny, I have to tell you something."

You sipped your drink, looking bored. Which annoyed me a little. I was about to tell you something extremely important. "What is it, Glory?"

"I'm going to kill myself."

You stared at me, then have me a stretched smile. Like this was a sick joke. "Really?"

"Sunny, I have to tell you something. Something important." I was about to pour it all out when you stopped me. Or, more specifically, when your chair screeched in the floor as you stood up.

It surprised me. "Sunny?"

You laughed, "Geez, Glory. I'm tired of this. You don't have any 'real' problems. All you have is girly crap. You don't know what real problems even feel like, I bet."

I stood up, too. "How would you know that?"

You gave me a snarl. "I'm tired of you nagging me around. I have worse things to think about. All you do is me this and me that, you always just beg for attention and the spotlight because you can't get them yourself. Other people have problems too, Glory. When are you going to grow up?"

"But—"

You huffed. "So your boyfriend cheated on you. So Scarlet lied to you. It's called life, Glory. You can't just keep feeling sorry for yourself. When was the last time you asked me if I had any problems? All you do is think about yourself all day. That's selfish."

You seemed annoyed and frustrated, like you were scolding a three year old. It brought tears to my eyes.

The words stung. "Fine!" I yelled. "Go away!"

And that's what you did. You went away, and never came back. Never came back to be my friend again.

It was me against the world. I was alone, and I didn't want friends. How could I? The person I trusted with my life couldn't take my crap.

I was...alone.

"What she said...was it true?"

Sunny stared at him through red eyes. They were covered with tears. She leaned her head back on a locker. "What do you mean?" She choked through sobs.

"What did she say...was it true? Did you do it?" Why would a dead girl lie?

She gave him a puzzling answer: "Did you?"

He pressed his lips together. Yeah, I did. "Why did you do it, Sunny?"

Sunny bursted into tears again. "Gosh, I don't want to face this. I never, ever wanted to face this." She huccuped. "Not to you. You are so innocent, Deathy. You never do anything wrong. I'm the one that did it wrong. I messed it all up."

"Just because you did it doesn't mean you can't look back and apologize."

Sunny sobbed, her shoulders shaking. "I hate myself."

He sighed and placed a hand on her shoulder. She flinched but didn't move away. "Explain to me."

Sunny gulped. "I didn't want to do it anymore. She was talking about suicide and I didn't want to listen. I didn't want to leave her, but I did. I just got so tired of listening to the same thing over and over again. I just saw a perfect her, and I compared it to my life. I couldn't see the real her. The broken, was Glory. I didn't think her stories were true." Sunny bursted into tears. "Maybe if I stayed..."

Deathbringer stared at The busy hallway. All the posters. All the nice people. All the counselors.

They weren't there when she was here. When she needed them.

Deathbringer didn't say anything. He just stood up and went to the center of the busy hallway, and laughed.

Nobody stopped. It was probably normal in this school.

"Oh, wow," he said, pointing at Glory's decorated locker. He wasn't really talking to anyone but himself. "Pretty, isn't it?" He laughed again. Everything was making him sick. Disgusted. "All the lockers are normal except hers, and nobody has the heart to take it down."

He walked up to a poster. It said, EVERY WORD YOU SAY MATTERS. He stared at it for a while, then ripped it out of the wall. People finally stopped to watch him. He threw it to the ground angrily.

Then he punched the wall. One. Two. Three.

Three strikes.

"Do you know?" He said quietly. "Every word you say matters, yeah, but nobody actually cares? People kill you and laugh at you, and they stop when you actually kill yourself." He turned and grinned at the crowd. "When they try to talk to you, you say, hell nah, obviously they're not going to do it, they don't mean it, they want attention...

Sunny was staring at him through red, bloodshot eyes that were filled with disbelief. "Deathbringer—"

"You could have helped her!" His voice raised into a yell. He was angry, oh, so angry. Angry fate had to take her life instead of anybody else's in this world. They were staring at him, too. Riptide. Darkstalker. Scarlet. Hailstorm.

"Deathbringer?" Hailstorm said, running his hand through his perfect hair. His eyes were distressed and filled with panic. "Maybe we can—"

Deathbringer cut him off. "You all could have saved her. Look at all those nice posters, all those stickers on the locker, but guess what, everyone? She's dead. Shocking, isn't it? They weren't here when somebody needed them. And everyone is just so nice until they drive you to kill yourself."

He felt his face becoming red, but he didn't care. "That's what we are. We are monsters. WE KILLED HER!" He screamed. "We all killed her. Did you catch that, everyone? We all killed her."

He took heaving breaths, tears coming into his eyes. He covered his hand with his hands. Why didn't you say this to me when I was alive?

"She didn't kill herself. We killed her."

Then he walked out of the school and didn't look back. Couldn't look back. Wouldn't.

They were monsters.

They killed her.

He killed her.

Sorry for such a long chapter. I watched the trailer and put some moments I liked into this. I hope you liked it!

Remember to...

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	17. NEXT TIME ON 13 REASONS WHY

"So, you need my help?"

Deathbringer paused. He hadn't had the chance to keep in touch with Blue, although they lived in the same street. "I have to ask you something," he said finally.

"What is it?"

He took a deep, shuddering breath, gripping his phone like his life depended on it. "Tell me, Blue, how do I contact Cricket Hive?"

This person started it all— and ended it all.

Perished a life for eternity. Sometimes, all it takes is a small pill. To end it all. To end the pain, the despair.

Thank you for telling me, stepfather.

"Welcome to you tape, Morrowseer Wilson"

Sunny looked at him, and he looked at her. "The thirteenth person is...Morrowseer?" He breathed.

Sunny nodded. "Listen."

That was it. The only thing that was left...was static.

"Don't you get it?" Morrowseer snarled. "You know nothing, Deathbringer Black. There is a bigger plot involved."

His voice started to get scratchy, and his eyes were red as tears dropped down from it. "What was it, then? What was her death? Why did she have to die?"

Morrowseer gave him a ghostly smile. This man was a monster. This man knew something he didn't. This man was dangerous.

"What are you talking about, Morrowseer?" He said hoarsely. "Tell me!"

Morrowseer smirked.

"She was just the beginning."

This is close to the end so I'm gonna drive you people crazy XD wait for the next time in thirteen reasons why...

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